#so I’ll probably try again once i figure out story stuff

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl

Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)

Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)

Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".

Content: Brandon.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.

Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.

Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.

That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.

“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 

“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.

You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 

“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”

He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”

More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.

You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…

“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.

“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”

“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”

You blink. “You are?”

“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”

An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?

“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”

He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.

“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”

Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”

“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”

“Be safe, Ky.”

“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”

You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.

You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?

Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.

But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.

Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.

Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.

Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.

Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)

“Where are you going?”

You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.

“The Hay Festival,” you answer.

Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.

“Alone?”

You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”

The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 

“I need that suitcase.”

You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”

He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”

Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?

You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.

“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.

There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.

“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.

When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.

This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.

“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”

He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”

That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.

Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.

“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.

“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.

“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”

He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.

Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.

Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…

“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”

Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.

The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”

He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.

As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.

“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”

You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”

“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”

“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.

“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”

He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.

“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.

“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.

You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.

“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”

“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”

“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.

You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.

“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.

You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.

A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.

A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.

Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.

I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)

Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.

Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.

Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.

I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.

My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.

She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?

I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?

Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.

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[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Asshole Instructor

Luke Castellan x Jackson!Reader

Request: luke x jackson!reader angst to fluff like he likes reader but bullies her and like one day she almost dies and then he feels so guilty and confesses

Summary: Luke has been an asshole but he can't help it until he realizes the girl he likes could be gone any minute

Warning: Angst, bullying, Luke acting like a five year old, monsters, injuries

Word Count: 1.5K

Masterlist

A/N I tweaked your request a bit so the story flows more imo

“Faster,” I yelled at one of our newest campers. Y/N Jackson dropped her sword and ripped off her helmet, looking at me with fury in her eyes. I was a little afraid but mostly really attracted to her like this.

“Don’t fu-”

“Hey, we don’t curse,” I reminded her of the camp rules. “What with all the kids around.” Seeing her become even angrier made it so hard not to laugh. I was just glad that we weren’t near any bodies of water. When I had told her that her 12 year old brother was a better fighter than her at dinner, every glass of water rose up in the air she was so mad.

She just threw the sword down and stormed off. “Hey!” I yelled after her. “You’re not dismissed.” But she ignored me, continuing to storm off towards the beach. I felt a pang of guilt antagonizing her to the point that she left but I figured I shouldn’t chase after her if she was going to be around water. Plus, it was funny to see her get so mad.

I turned around the clean up the arena only to see Annabeth standing there looking unimpressed. “Why are you being so mean to her?” she asked.

“I’m not, I'm just messing around.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, you’re antagonizing her. And I think I know why,” she smirked.

“Why?” I asked, deciding to humor her.

“Because you looove her,” she replied smugly, drawing out ‘love.’

“I do not,” I immediately defended. I cringed as my response was too fast. She only gave me a satisfied smirk. “Fine, okay. She’s pretty, I’ll give you that.” Annabeth just raised her eyebrow. “And smart,” I admitted. She kept looking at me. “And nice.” More looks. “Fine! Whenever I see her I want to kiss her and never let her out of my sight.”

A smile broke out on her face, finally satisfied. “See? Now go tell her that. Well- maybe not that exactly. You’ll probably scare her off. But tell her how you feel instead of harassing her and making her hate you.”

My heart stopped. “She hates me?”

“Probably!” Annabeth said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Or at least she will if you keep treating her so terribly.”

“Fine, I’ll apologize to her after dinner,” I sighed.

“No! Now,” she demanded.

“But she’s at the beach. She’ll kill me!”

“I don’t care. Go,” she said, pointing down the beach. “And take this to her.”

I grumbled, grabbing her helmet from Annabeth before heading after the daughter of Poseidon. When I finally found her she was sitting near a cluster of rocks, clearly trying not to be noticed by anyone. But as I prepared to tell her how I felt but as I looked at her, I thought about all the horrible ways she could reject me. And then humiliate me by telling everyone in camp about it. So instead I threw the helmet at her.

It bounced off the rock with a clang, clearly startling her. “What? Are you gonna cry because I told you, you sucked. What are you 5?”

“Go away, Luke,” she yelled. I once again felt a pang in my chest as I heard the trembling in her voice. Whether from rage or tears I wasn’t quite sure. But picturing her laughing in my face as she rejected me made me keep going.

“I see why your dad went back to your mom. He couldn’t have his only demigod child in decades be so weak like you.”

“I said go away!” she yelled, standing up. Her eyes were practically on fire as she looked at me with a burning glare. The ocean was getting choppier behind her before it lunged up into a huge wave, soaking me to the bone. I coughed when it finally receded and she was left there, standing dry. “Leave me alone or I’ll stuff you in a sewer pipe,” she threatened, walking off.

~

When I told Annabeth what happened she threatened to stuff me in a sewer pipe. But other than that she let it go and I hadn’t seen much of Y/N. Which hurt at times because I missed seeing her and I thought about her all the time but I honestly deserved that threat she gave me so I respected her wishes.

That was until I heard a scream and then a boy’s desperate yell. I was in the arena when I heard it and didn’t hesitate running towards the sound. There I found Percy and his sister at the edge of the forest. Percy was frantically pushing on his sister’s bleeding leg as she was getting visibly paler. He looked up, seeing me. “Do something!” he yelled.

I ran over, kneeling by her side. I could now see the wound clearly and it was deep. Deep enough to kill her from blood loss. She already had a puddle underneath her and I could see a trail coming from the woods. “Go get Chiron,” I told the boy. He nodded, getting up to sprint to the Big House.

I looked at Y/N’s face, surprised to see her still conscious. “Surprised you’re not cutting me further open,” she said through shallow breaths.

“Look, I’m sorry I’ve treated you like shit and I promise I’ll explain why when you’re better but I need you to focus on staying awake right now. Think you can do that?”

Despite the fact that my hands were keeping her from bleeding out she had the audacity to roll her eyes. “Fine.”

“Thank you,” I breathed. I felt ashamed realizing that was probably the first nice thing I had ever said to her.

Once some Apollo kids came and took her the Big House I went with them. But once they had her in the sickroom and everyone else was kicked out, I became wracked with guilt and worry. I made her life miserable. Why? Because I was afraid of my own feelings for her? I realized just how ridiculous that was. And I realized how little time I may have to actually confess my feelings.

“What happened, Percy?” Chiron’s words interrupted my thoughts.

“We were in the forest just trying to get some monster fighting experience when this big… dog—I think it was a hellhound—jumped at me out of nowhere. I guess she saw it first because she pushed me out of the way but its claws caught her leg,” Percy explained. “Is she going to be alright?” he asked, tears in his wide eyes.

“Yes, she should be fine,” Chiron assured the boy before sending a reassuring look to me too. Did everyone know I liked her? I briefly cursed Annabeth, she probably told him.

But soon enough Lee and Michael said we could go in so I followed Percy into the room. Her leg was wrapped in a pristine white bandage and the sheets must have been changed because they were also white in contrast to her bloody shirt and shorts.

“Percy, why don’t you go get her some clothes for when she wakes up?” I suggested. He looked reluctant but went anyway so I could talk to her. I took a seat by her head, observing her peaceful, beautiful face. “I don’t know if you can hear me but… at least you can’t reject me like this,” I said, letting out an empty chuckle. “But um I guess I'm fulfilling my promise. The reason I’ve been such an asshole to you is because… well… I think I’m in love with you. And I was afraid of my feelings and that you’d reject me so I took it out on you and I’m sorry for that. You didn’t deserve that.”

I sat there for a beat of silence, unsure what to do. But just before I stood up and left, I felt her fingers brush against mine. “Took you long enough to confess, jerk,” she said. I looked back at her, finding the slightest smile and her gorgeous eyes.

“So… you like me too?” I asked, my heart pounding with insecurity.

“Yeah, of course I do,” she admitted. I smiled, leaning down to press my lips to hers. When I pulled away to breathe she took the opportunity to speak. “If you tell anyone I’ll stuff you in a sewer pipe.”

“Sure you will,” I taunted her, connecting our lips again. This time I only pulled away when I heard a slightly squeaky voice.

“What are you doing with my sister?”

Masterlist

[queenimmadolla]

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐑𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬

(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)

previous — next part ┊ 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( + playlist)

Summary: You learn the identity of your new undead friend, get a mini ‘makeover’, catch your crush’s attention and bury a body while Eddie learns throwing up on the girl he’s interested in probably doesn’t display his potential as a boyfriend, but his protective nature might.

Chapter Warnings: a stinky boy, dark humor, unpleasant home life, intense longing (on eddie’s behalf). oh yeah, and murder.

a/n: so i lied, this is actually longer than the first chapter and i accepted my fate. we’re getting to the fun stuff, though. next up: more vigilante justice, eddie lore and emerging feelings for a certain dead man walking. hope you like it!

light dividers ℗ cafekitsune ♡

“C’mon, over here.” You gestured to your open doorway, watching your new zombie pal hobble up the final step and round the staircase. His movements were harsh, stiff as hell and made your bones hurt to watch for whatever reason. Every over limp was accompanied by an inhuman grunt, and you wondered if moving his limbs might actually be painful for him.

  You were never particularly skilled in the art of masking your emotions, so your eyebrows were furrowed, mouth parted and upper lip tucked up to clearly display your phantom discomfort. 

  Once he was close enough, you crossed over the threshold, standing a little in front of your bed as he wandered in, large eyes immediately raking over everything on your walls. After beckoning him further in, you moved around the filthy corpse standing in your room to close the door. 

  “Despite your deadly good looks, we can’t risk anyone seeing you. No one else can know you’re here.” You informed him, trying to stress the seriousness of the situation without seeming too controlling. While you had waited for The Zombie to struggle up the stairs, you’d determined there were three possible ways this town would react to discovering a member of the dead had risen—that only seemed to be socially acceptable and celebrated in the form of Jesus Christ:

 1.) Pitchforks and Torches.

2.) News, Military, and Government attention, which would no doubt mean you’d have to break him out of some lab.

3.) Pitchforks and Torches, News, Military, and Government attention, which would mean you’d have to save him from an angry mob before inevitably losing him once News stations picked the story up, causing subsequent Military and Government interference and the scientific study of your undead friend in some high tech/high defense lab, leaving you to figure out how to break into and get him out of it. 

  Or, he could just not leave your bedroom. A beautiful alternative.

  The Zombie didn’t even pay you any attention, stumbling forward—and banging his foot against the leg of your bed frame—to take a better look at your things. He was grunting and groaning, though this time it seemed to be a little different. It almost sounded like he was talking to himself. Or maybe to you. 

  Zombies in film seemed to be able to voice their demands for brains. Could he? Did he have the same urge or need to eat brains? How would you even feed a zombie?

  “Can you talk?” You asked, leaning back against the door, eyes on him as he had to hop in place in order to turn his body to face you, “Like, speak? With words?”

  He seemed to consider your question for a moment, eyes darting to the side.

  “Uuuuuuunnnggghhh.”

  “So, that’s a no. Do you…do you need brains? Because I’m not sure I can get you any of those—and if you think for one second that you’re gonna eat mine, you should know I fall under fight when it comes to fight or flight responses. I’m like an alley cat, I’ll fuck you up.”

  The Zombie stumbled back, rocking from side to side. It took you a moment to realize he was trying to shake his head, no.

  Interesting.

  “No brains?”

  Again, he rocked from side to side, “Uunggh-uunghh.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Your defenses dropped immediately as you played with your hair, pulling gently at a section of it, “Well, what do you eat?”

  He did the choppy shoulder raise he���d done in the livingroom earlier, “Unnhh unnhh.” 

  Your lips curled into a small, fascinated smile. Okay, you knew he had been once alive, once a human being existing on this earth with blood pulsing through his veins—and now he was dead.

  Yet, he wasn’t dead. He was dead but standing in your bedroom, amongst your girly things and not so girly things, staring at you in his grotesque form, and shrugging I dunno, like some alive person. A full blown, supernatural one-time (to your knowledge) occurrence only depicted in Sci-fi films and horrors.

  Why you? What did he want with you?

  You hadn’t realized you’d voiced the question until he hobbled back around to your bedroom wall, raising his left hand, and the only one he seemed to have, up to one of the tombstone etchings. His fingers were all sorts of fucked up, frozen in the most uncomfortable looking positions as a result of rigor mortis in whatever position he’d died.

  “What? That? It’s just an etching I made of a tombstone.”

  He craned his head around, and you tried not to be freaked out with the way his neck hadn’t turned enough with it, tapping his crooked pinky finger against the craft paper and then moved it to his chest.

  Your eyes zeroed in on the etching, trying to understand what he was attempting to tell you. 

  It was MUN’s tombstone—no, Eddie Munson’s tombstone.

  Your jaw dropped. Had to be somewhere around your feet, on the floor. Holy. Shit.

  “That’s you? You’re Eddie Munson?” It was rude, but you openly pointed at him.

  He didn’t grunt in response this time, rather, he began to cough and gag as he jerked his body around to get his hand in his dirty jeans. 

  While he did whatever it was, you took the time to take him in even further. He wore black jeans, but under his leather jacket he seemed to be wearing a discolored dress shirt that had once probably been white. You had a feeling the sneakers on his feet, while horrendously dirty, weren’t all that worn out. Dress pants were pricey, you knew that much after buying some for your father when your mother would take you to outlets and malls with her. Dress shirts were a little cheaper and new shoes were seen as a staple in big events for peoples’ lives, such as graduations, birthdays, dances, weddings and funerals. 

  You had a sneaking suspicion this lively carcass hadn’t been from this part of town when he was alive. 

  “UUUUUUNNNNGGGHHHH!” The Zombie moaned out, almost victoriously as his stiff arm stuck straight up in the air. Dangling from his curled fingers, was your mother’s pearl necklace. You’d seen it last when you’d entrusted MUN with it yesterday.

  You gasped, reaching out as he lowered it into your furled palm. 

  With the proof in your hand and his corpse before you, you knew you were speaking to Eddie Munson. He was, without a doubt, the grave you’d been running to.

  “Holy crap, you are Eddie Munson!” You gripped the pearls in your fist, eyes wide and blinking rapidly to try to make sense of it all, “You were murdered and now you’re not—I mean, you were, but you’re back from the dead, standing in my—ooh, standing pretty close actually.”

  You tried not to flinch as you became aware of just how close he’d stumbled over to you. Definitely within arms-length. He didn’t exactly stink, his flesh looked much too leathery to actually smell (you weren’t about to lean in and sniff to test the theory), but the scent of wet dirt was strong and the smell of whatever he’d spat on you earlier seemed to be lingering. 

  Zombie Eddie was in desperate need of a shower.

  “So, this is all pretty cool and bizarre—I’m a fan of both—but uhm, why are you here…? Like, in my house.”

  He slouched even further into your space, this time you did flinch a little as the most muffled whimper sounded from him. Reminded you of the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz when he couldn’t speak properly because he was all rusted up. 

  Eddie held eye contact as he struggled to grab hold of your hand and the minute he did, dirt from his skin pressing into yours, you knew what was coming.

  Because of course it would. This is something that would only happen to you.

  Shakily, Eddie tried lifting your hand and your mouth puckered, brows furrowing before you sucked your lips into your mouth as you watched him prepare to kiss your hand with his filthy, dead, dried out lips that still had bits of that green goop he’d spat up around it.

  You were a nice person—a relatively decent human being, but you weren’t that nice and you didn’t wanna have to go to the hospital on the off chance that you caught something from a corpse. Explaining that one would send you straight to the psych ward and probably end in some sort of abuse of a corpse charge, so you quickly pulled your hand out of his grasp, rubbing your fingers together to roll some of the dirt off of them.

  “Okay, okay, I see, mhm—alright. You’re here because—when I said I wished I was with you, I didn’t mean like, I wanted to have your dead body…y’know, pressed up against mine. I meant like…in the grave. Next to you. Like buried there because I’d be dead. It was a moment of intense angst—I’m nineteen and my life is in the fucking gutter. I’m surrounded by terrible people in this town and I have the rest of my life to live out this way.

  “I didn’t mean to lead you on or something, and I’m pretty sure it’s a crime to do literally anything with a corpse, other than bury it.”

  The two of you stood there, just staring at each other. He still hadn’t moved out of your space and you were still kind of leaning back, away from him, so you added, “So. Just a little recap, I wanted to be dead. Did not mean I wanted to be with you. Romantically. Together. Like a couple.”

  And then you felt a little guilty because that wasn’t entirely true.

  “Well, not with you as a cadaver.” Because you had fantasized about the person in the grave being a source of comfort to you, “Or—or, you in general. ‘Cause…’cause I didn’t know it was you given how fucked up your shit was, and I didn’t know you when you were alive.”

  God, you were messing this up. Rather than continuing your ongoing word vomit, you flashed him a tight smile.

  Finally, you got a reaction out of him. He creaked back, those little whimpering sounds coming from his lips before that same nasty ass green shit from before started leaking out from behind his eyeballs.

  You’d made him cry.

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—I just moved here a couple of months ago and you were already dead by then! I’m sure you were a lovely person and I would have liked y—y—yo—ECH!”

  You gagged, hand flying up to cover your mouth and nose as you felt the contents of your stomach start to make its way back up. While your hand was in that position, it squeezed the tip of your nose, cutting of the assault currently taking place against it.

  Whatever it was Zombie Eddie was secreting instead of his tears, stunk. It was the most putrid scent you’d ever had the misfortune of knowing. Nothing could compare to it, not literal shit, not vomit, not pasta that had been left out to cook in the sun for several weeks, nothing.

  You were sure one more sniff of it, and your nostril hairs would either shrink and curl up, or disintegrate. 

  “MOTHER OF GOD—your tears smell horrendous—I’m gonna throw u—ECH!”

  You gagged again, tears flooding your sight and you hurried over to the bathroom, gesturing for him to follow behind you.

  Chrissy had left her door to the bathroom open, so you skidded across the tile to shove it closed, desperate to make sure the scent didn’t reach the room and wouldn’t linger in there.

  She’d drive you straight to the ER to get checked out, because nothing you could possibly shit out should ever and would ever smell that bad.

  You yanked the shower curtain back from the tub, setting Chrissy’s products to the side and out of the way, “You need to bathe like two years ago, my dead guy.”

  You stepped to the side, pointing into the tub with a finger as your other hand rested on your hip like you were ordering a misbehaving child in.

  Eddie groaned, and you got the feeling that he was unimpressed with your theatrics. Unfortunately for the both of you, you hadn’t been dramatic about it. His stank tears had to be an actual biohazard and you didn’t want to think about the fact that very same biohazard had been projectile vomited onto your face a couple of minutes ago. You were so gonna scrub it raw.

  Begrudgingly, he hobbled over to your tub and struggled over the edge until he was in—his upper half slamming into the tile wall. 

  You didn’t say anything about him being fully clothed, shoes and all, because everything he wore needed a good rinse off. If not, you’d have to hose his clothes down in the yard before subjecting the dryer and washer to them.

  “There’s my soap.” You pointed out the pink bottle of pomegranate and berry scented shower gel, “And my shampoo and conditioner—those two are very expensive and a little goes a long way, so don’t waste any.”

  You eyed him for a moment, mouth twisting in consideration, “Nevermind, it’ll take half the bottles to get your hair clean, I’ll just have to replace them a little earlier than my budget expected.”

  This time, Eddie’s mouth parted rather wide as he moaned out, “UHNNNGGHH.”

  He was probably telling you to fuck off already, but you were distracted by whatever insect was currently in his mouth, on his tongue.

  “SPIT IT OUT!” You shrieked, and he aimed his head down, the large thing with too many legs falling right out to crawl around on your bathroom floor.

  You screamed as you began to stomp around, trying to crush it beneath your remaining slipper but it kept evading it! Finally, your foot flattened it with a satisfying crunch.

  The evil had been defeated. You were nearly panting, shoulders rising and falling as you calmed your breathing and another sound registered.

  Eddie was croaking now, it sounded almost like the most painful gasps someone would let out on their deathbed. You stared, puzzled for a moment before it dawned on you.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  He did it again, stiff body leaning completely back on the shower tiles now.

  “Oh my god, you are! YOU DICK!” You slapped the side of his arm and then quickly yanked it back, frowning at the mud now caked to the back of your fingers. 

  “Ugh,” you tried to shake some of it off over the tub, your head shaking as well—and despite the predicament, you found the corners of your lips twitching but you refused to smile. Wouldn’t let him get that over you, “You’re gross. That better be the last living creature to come out of you, you Zombie Headbanger, take a shower.”

  You didn’t give him a chance to moan, groan or croak at you again, yanking the curtains back to shield the tub and it’s undead occupant.

  You rolled your eyes, almost fondly, and gathered too much toilet paper to wipe up the remnants of the bug and toss it in the trash. Should’ve been in a different corpse’s mouth if it wanted to live.

  “You know how to work a shower, don’t you?” You asked aloud as you approached your bathroom counter, taking notice of the bathroom mirror as you uncapped a room spray and gave your bathroom a good burst of it. The mirror had already been replaced, looked like Laura couldn’t stand to know there was something imperfect in the house—aside from you. 

  You heard the tub start to run before the shower stream took over. At least he still remembered that much.

  “You wanna listen to some music?” You asked over the loud stream of the shower.

  “Uunngh.”

  You took that as a yes and leaned over the counter to tweak the knob of the radio you and Chrissy always left on it. Immediately, a country station started playing and you quickly switched the station.

  “That’s not one of mine! Chrissy listens to Country whenever she misses her ex-boyfriend, I don’t know why.”

  You kept twisting the dial through various stations. When you hit a station midway through Disposable Heroes, you turned the knob again only for your companion to voice his outrage.

  “UUUUUUNNNGGHHHH!!!”

  “What?” You switched the station back, “You like Metallica?”

  He grunted from behind the shower curtain, and the scent of your body wash began to fill the bathroom, much to your relief. You could hear him banging around in there, probably not the easiest to wash up with a bad case of rigor mortis.

  “They’re alright, I liked Ride the Lightning, but Master of Puppets is good, too. Their last album was good, too, but it felt kind of different. Not the same without Burton.”

  Eddie made a sound of confusion, hand with the fucked up fingers reaching out to push the curtain back so he could poke his head out.

  You met his gaze through the mirror, “You don’t know?”

  He just blinked, almost owlishly. 

  Shit. He must have died before the fall of ‘86. You’d have to ask Chrissy when exactly Eddie had died.

  “The bass player, Cliff Burton? He died in ‘86. Bus accident.”

  You watched as Eddie’s gaze dropped, and the groan he let out sounded remarkably sad as he ducked back behind the curtain.

  Unsure of what to say to make him feel better, you let the radio play out the rest of the duration of Eddie’s shower and took diligent care in washing your face and brushing your teeth. Once he was done, smelling amazing and just like you, you’d had him shed his clothes for one of your nightgowns and dragged him back to your closet.

  You knew he was quite literally stiff, but he seemed extra unenthused with his choice of ensemble, so you were going to let him choose his own.

  “Alright, take your pick.” You yanked the doors of your walk-in closet (as in you could take three steps in and that's it) open and he flinched back at the amount of pink seeping out of it. When he made no move to look through his options, you selected one for him.

  An even gaudier nightgown you tried to shove in his arms. And he let you, before purposely dropping it to the ground while holding eye contact. 

  “Well, I thought you would have looked great in it.” You mumbled as he creaked down to pick it up for you. When Eddie hobbled into the closet to hang it up, you shut the doors behind him, “Pick something else and then you can come out!”

  Your closet doors didn’t lock though, so you were just banking on him assuming they did and you heard his offended zombie groaning. While you waited, listening to him no doubt bang into the walls as he struggled to dress himself, grunting and groaning, you twirled around on your desk chair.

  Eventually, the closet doors parted and you gasped at the sight of him, standing there in your lavender fluffy, oversized sweater and pair of white pajama pants with hearts all over them. He couldn’t really move his face all that much, not very expressive and yet you could somehow tell he was scowling.

  “You look like Grimace.” Was all you said, mind conjuring up Ronald McDonald’s purple monster friend.

  The closet doors were promptly slammed shut. When he emerged once more, gone was the former ensemble. Eddie was wearing a neon green skirt, a tight off the shoulder black top, and nothing else.

  You wolf whistled at his skinny, severely discolored legs.

  He stuck one out, modeling it for you and you realized he was humoring you. You laughed, eyes crinkling.

  “You tryna knock me dead, too?”

  When he nodded, you laughed again and stood up to rummage through your dresser. You found a band tee you used as a pajama top, and some black pants that looked like they might fit him. Then you spotted a red plaid flannel you had hanging on your bedroom door, waiting to be placed in the closet.

  The clothing items were shoved into his arms and you pushed him back into the closet.

  When he came out (eheheheh) again, you were practically bouncing in your seat. You’d never seen Eddie alive before, had never seen him in clothes that weren’t his burial ones, and he definitely still looked as much of a Zombie as Michael Jackson had looked in the Thriller music video, but he also looked like a young adult, and very much so in his Metal element. He was stretching your baby blue socks to their limit, but they’d have to do until you could steal some from your dad. You’d scrub his shoes tomorrow, before class.

  If Eddie were alive, he’d look…hot.

  You smiled to yourself, still taking him in as you realized you were looking at Eddie Munson.

  To show your admiration, you clapped for him, “That’ll do real well. What do you think?”

  Eddie raised his forearm and you tilted your head, confused. He followed your gaze and groaned, rolling his eyes as he realized that was the arm lacking a hand. Then, he held up his other arm, painful looking thumb finger cracking and popping until he was giving you a thumbs up. You ended up tying a scarf around the wrist without a hand, just to hide the gaping wound. 

  With the matter of his clothing solved, you moved onto his hair, sitting on the bathroom counter while he stood in front of you as you worked on detangling with a spray bottle and a legion of hair products. It took some TLC, and ignoring the hole where his ear should’ve been, but you brought his curls back to life. You were shocked to even see he had bangs, they’d been plastered to the top of his head when he was the Swamp Thing.

  They framed his eyes, looked real good on him and he seemed to enjoy the entire process, eyes slipping shut and little moans (not like that) coming from him.

  “Well, I think we’ve got you back in good shape.” You put down the comb, placing your hand on his shoulders to turn him towards the mirror, “Is this Eddie Munson?”

  You watched his gaze scan his reflection, before those eyes were on yours in the mirror. 

  “Unnnghhh.” Eddie held up his arm with the missing appendage and you nervously scratched the back of your heard.

  “Well, you see, I don’t really have any extra hands on me, at the moment. Just down to these two,” You emphasized the sentence with some jazz hands to display yours, then immediately felt guilty over still having yours so you hid them behind your back.

  Eddie groaned low, lifting his wrist to the side of his head, where his ear should have been and you made a displeased sound. 

  “Oh. Noticed that, did you?”

  His eyes narrowed and even though you had no idea what Eddie had sounded like, you could still hear him in your head, Notice my fucking ear is missing? Yeah, I did.

  “I don’t have any extras of those, either. If it’s a body part, I’m out of stock. But—who cares? Plenty of people live without them.”

  Eddie grunted, eyes narrowing even further at you.

  You winced, “Poor choice of words—the point is, no one will even notice. Because no one is going to see you.”

  Eddie’s next grunt sounded disappointed and you felt even guiltier. What were you supposed to do? You’d already made him look as relatively normal as you could, there was only so many ways you could disguise a zombie who walked oddly, communicated via moan, groan and grunt, and looked like he had a medical skin condition.

  You were about to try to comfort him when you heard the front door open and you gasped.

  “WHAT IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN?” You heard Laura cry out, and your dad shouted your name. 

  “I don’t mean to sound homophobic, but back in the closet!” You shoved him out of the bathroom and in the direction of his new hiding place. He hadn’t looked very keen as you shut the closet doors on him, but he’d have to wait for now.

  Your dad was probably having one hell of a heart attack, staring at the mess of the house, the broken window, fearful a similar situation as your mother’s assault had taken place with you as the victim.

  “I’m alright, daddy!” You reassured as you raced down the stairs to your concerned father. He was concerned alright, but not about you.

  He had Laura in one arm, who was openly distraught about the shards of her damn plates, and Chrissy, who was staring at the mess with open confusion, in the other.

  “You,” Laura spat at you with venom the moment her chilling gaze locked onto your approaching figure, “What. Did. You. Do?”

  Wow. You’d seen an actual Zombie—he was upstairs, in your bedroom closet—and still the most unbelievable thing to happen to you was your ‘family’’s ability to immediately blame you. You hadn’t expected Eddie’s corpse to be the first suspect in their head, still, they’d seen your house ransacked—as you tried to escape your friendly deceased headbanger—with you nowhere in sight, and hadn’t been at all concerned for your wellbeing. God, they sucked.

  “Me?! I didn’t do this!”

  “Then who did!?” Laura screeched back and you found yourself getting angry.

  “The guy who broke in!” You shouted back and Laura immediately rolled her eyes. You could hear your dad say both of your names to calm you down, but you were growing tired of him, too. Like Eddie, he seemed to be missing parts of his body. Noticeably, his goddamn spine.

  “Really? You expect us to believe that after last night? The smashing of the mirror, my precious moments figurines? Muffin, your daughter is out of control. She destroyed my house!”

  “Do you ever use those creepy eyeballs stuck in your skull?” You found yourself blurting out, “Does it look like any part of my body came crashing through that window?!” You pointed aggressively in the direction of the livingroom, where glass littered the floor. It was too much for just an object to have been thrown through and your body had no cuts, nothing to show from possibly jumping through it.

  “Mom, if sissy was attacked─” Chrissy tried, her her mother was having none of it.

  “Attacked? Who would want to attack her? She’s invisible, taking up space!” Laura was practically hysterical as she gathered pieces of her broken dishes, “That’s why she’s acting out, can’t you see? She’s recreating the crime scene that got her so much attention and you’re all falling for it!”

  The woman was crying, mascara smearing around her eyes as her angry glare was once more directed to you, and you found yourself shrinking and hurt at the accusations, “You need serious help. You’re crazy and a danger to us all!”

  “I think you might be mistaking me for your psyche.” You mumbled before turning your attention to your father with pleading eyes, “Daddy, there was a home invasion! I tried to call the police, but as soon as I heard him, I ran up to hide in my room.”

  “She needs help, institutional treatment.” Laura hissed into your father’s ear as as though she was the devil on his shoulder.

  “Daddy…”

  “Mom, sissy’s not a nut, we can’t send her to the looney bin!” 

  You wanted to scream. All this talk about you being insane, and there was a literal walking corpse upstairs who could disprove that. You just weren’t willing to sacrifice Eddie for yourself. 

  “Dad, I’m not crazy. Okay? Last night was just a mirror, and tonight someone broke in. There’s a huge difference between the two, I’m not crazy.” You tried to reason, desperate to not get shipped off to some mental ward. 

  Your dad appeared sympathetic, “No one is calling you crazy, sweetheart.”

  ”I did.” Laura guffawed at your father siding with you.

  “She did, I heard her.” Chrissy confirmed, frowning at her mother.

  “No, Chris. Your mother’s just upset, she’d never say something like that and mean it.” You watched with disgust as he pulled Laura into his arms. It was more than you could stomach so you stormed out of the dining room, making a retreat for your room.

  You were on your own. Your father had just proved that. Laura could say anything to you, treat you like crap, starve you and he wouldn’t ever step in, just continue being his wishy washy self. If it had been him and not your mother that night, you wouldn’t be suffering like this. 

  You’d have a loving parent. 

  You quietly shut your bedroom door once you made it in, leaning your forehead against it as a tear slipped from the corner of your eye. Emotions were something you tried to embrace, but crying because of your family felt…wrong. Like something you shouldn’t have to do. 

  Wiping your face, you realized more tears would be coming. Tonight was meant for crying. So, you slipped into bed, tears leaking steadily down your temples to seep into your hair and pillows. You were so hurt and you wanted to sob, but you were conscious of the dead guy in your closet. What if he heard you?

  With a stuttering breath, you peered over at the closet to see the doors barely open and Eddie peaking out at you.

  You rolled onto your side, back facing him to hide your tear stained face and weakness as you thought about how loud you and Laura had been downstairs. He’d probably heard what she said about you.

  It was one thing to be treated the way you were, it felt extra pathetic to have someone bear witness to it. 

  The closet doors closed quietly behind you and just as you did every night, you squeezed your eyes shut, willing sleep to come so you could be done with the day and move onto the next, just solemnly trying to make it through life. 

  Maybe you and Eddie had more in common than you originally thought. Maybe you were a zombie, too.

  When your alarm blared from your nightstand, rousing you from sleep—the only peace you ever seemed to get—you stumbled out of bed almost blindly, eyes heavily lidded with exhaustion as you yanked your closet doors open.

  A garment was immediately thrown over your head, covering your face and you remembered your current house guest.

  With a sigh, you yanked the clothing off your head, balled it up and threw it back at Eddie, “Dude, I have to get dressed. I have class today.”

  Eddie grumbled, un-balling the little black dress and holding it up for you. It was the dress Chrissy had bought on sale and then given to you when she came to the conclusion that black washed her out and she looked much better in pastels.

  “I’m not wearing that, not so much my style.” You tried to push past Eddie, but he remained planted where he stood, grunting as he held the dress out to you once more.

  “Do I look like Madonna to you?” You asked, pushing the dress back towards him. Eddie groaned and threw the dress at your face again, closing the closet doors while you yanked it off your head, again.

  “We’re gonna have to have a conversation about your communication skills later.” You called through the door and fiddled with the dress, “Can I get a sweater or something to go along with this?”

  The closet doors were quickly opened and a new article of clothing was flung over your head before they closed. You’d just pulled the sweater off of your head when the doors opened once more and a hat was tossed at you.

  “Dang—anything else?”

  “Uuunggh.” Eddie moaned through the door, and you tried to pull at them but he must have been holding them shut from the otherside. 

  Resigned to your fate, you swapped out your pajamas for the outfit Eddie had apparently selected for you. He would navigate to the black clothing. You were unsure of it until you saw yourself in the mirror. Normally, your clothes weren't all that revealing. Form fitting—maybe, but never as attention drawing as this. You just figured you weren’t the type that could pull it off.

  You were wrong. 

  The dress hugged your figure in the most complimentary way. It was short, stopped mid-thigh, but it didn’t look awkward or make you feel like your vagina would be on display if you bent over, thanks to the lace of the bottom hem flaring out.

  For once, the girl in the mirror looked stunning. And when you did your makeup, taking your time to smoke a dark blue shadow out along your lash line and eyelids, she looked drop dead gorgeous. 

  You’d walked onto Campus with your head high, body rocking and a new found confidence that hadn’t quite made it’s way to the surface before. The heads turning in your direction were new and you found you kind of liked it, their gazes weren’t uninterested, scowls or looks of annoyance. They were appreciative, even from the straight girls!

  “Okay, am I seeing things or does your sister look drop dead gorgeous?” Tina asked, as Chrissy and her friends stood admiring you from the bench they were occupying.

  “You’ve got perfect 20/20 vision. She’d be unstoppable if she kept the confidence. Could probably even win pageants. Do you think she’d join cheer?”

  Eddie fiddled with one of your shoes, tugging on a shoestring in boredom. He was sat on the floor of your closet, light from your bedroom windows creeping in through the cracks of the doors. 

  You’d lectured him before you left for class, told him he had to stay put. Laura wouldn’t be leaving for her nurses’ conference until the afternoon, so she’d be lingering in the house and she’d have a cow if she stumbled upon him.

  So you’d pointed and lectured until he was creaking and groaning his compliance. 

  He’d stayed in the closet while you got dressed and, after you’d made sure Chrissy had already left, watched you do your makeup in the mirror while you chatted about the classes you had to take for the day.

  Eddie had listened, to the best of his ability with one ear, and stared at your reflection as the heavy sense of longing settled on his chest, crushing the heart that no longer beat but desperately wished to. For you.

  Death was not like he’d ever expected. No heaven, no hell. He was just…dead. Maybe it’d been the way he died. Perhaps, the suddenness of it, his lack of peace in life while living, or the fact that he was murdered, was the reason he saw neither heaven nor hell. He’d just been in a dark place. Literally, no source of light, no out of body experience, just darkness. For a while, it was tolerable, he’d heard Wayne’s voice comforting him. Telling him how much he loved him, how much he missed him. Then, nothing.

  Nothing for so long. Quiet. Silence, not at all a peaceful kind. He no longer existed in life and yet the silence was still somehow smothering. 

  Until one day, he wasn’t alone anymore. 

  You found him. 

  Talked to him all the time, laid with him, kept him company and said such wonderful things. Eddie had no idea how much he’d appreciate hearing about current news events as a dead guy.

  And while you kept him from feeling lonely, there was always a sadness to your presence. Broke his heart when you told him out of place you felt because he just wanted to claw his way out of his grave and tell you that no, you weren’t odd, you weren’t weird, you weren’t out of place. You were unique. You were the type of person he would have admired if he had been alive, different but not desperate to fit in. Just longed to be accepted.

  He understood the sentiment all too well. 

  Eddie understood you. And you had no idea who he was, had voiced as much to him, couldn’t come up with his identity because some fuckers had defaced his tombstone—of course they would—and yet, you knew exactly who Eddie was. Knew him to his very core.

  When you visited him, Eddie felt warm. He had no idea he could even feel things, other than the constant loneliness that had plagued him after Wayne’s presence disappeared, and before you.

  With you, it felt like you were right there with him, beside him. A warmth, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in for some much needed comforting. How ironic that he finally found someone who could finally see him, and he couldn’t do anything about it because he was dead. 

  And when you had come to Eddie that fateful night, the sadness he always noticed about you was heavier. A new despair attached, one that had him desperate to get to you, comfort you as you’d done for him.

  I wish I was with you.

  You’d said it. Had said what Eddie had wanted to hear you say for so long, even before he was dead. Before he knew you. It had always been you he was waiting for. He was beginning to understand the universe was bigger than anything he could have imagined (and yeah, maybe universal studios was the first thing that came to mind when he was alive), was positive the heartache he went through was necessary if it led him to you. Eddie could have done without the murder—there was no undoing that. Except, there kind of was. And it happened with a strike of lightning.

  Unlike the many times he wanted to before, he’d actually been able to open his eyes, break out of his coffin and dig his way out of his own grave. 

  Eddie had had a major breakdown, freaking out at just about everything regarding returning from the dead after he’d broken through that final layer of thick terrain, minutely softened by some light rain from the storm. He had first tried to go home, only to find himself face to face with an unfamiliar mobile home set up on Wayne’s lot. A peek into the window revealed a couple. 

  No sign of his uncle.

  It filled him with a sense of panic and he’d needed something—someone to stabilize him, keep him grounded. 

  Eddie was sure he was tied to you. Not only because of the unique bond you shared, he also felt a pull to you. Just some intense instinct. 

  He knew where to go after.

  Your welcome hadn’t exactly been as warm as the grave hangouts—he didn’t blame you, his vocal chords were useless to him for the time being, meaning he couldn’t explain himself as you shrieked and flung dishes at him (and he was impressed) and fled from him. He could make sounds, so Eddie suspected he had the ability to talk, just lacked the healthy cords due to years of non-use to them, what with him being dead and all. 

  Eddie’s case was definitely not helped when he’d broken your fall—he was freaking the fuck out about you dangling from the roof like that—and you’d pressed on him stomache when you landed on him. 

  He hadn’t meant to…y’know…spit all that up on you, it just happened and he immediately wanted to die right after, just roll right back into his grave, he was so fucking embarrassed.

  Projectile vomited on the girl you’re tryna romance, Munson. Nice.

  Then, you hadn’t been attacking him, tugging him along to your room instead where you immediately told him you were just using dark humor to cope and didn’t actually want to be with him.

  Probably something you should have clarified for him before he returned from the dead to be with you, but whatever. He wasn’t mad about it. Just a little bit heartbroken. Definitely didn’t stink up your closet with a little cry sesh while you were at college. Totally didn’t smell like Cherry Bubbles (how is that a scent?) from the bathroom spray he’d had to limp out to grab in an effort to hide the scent of his rotting body tears.

  Now, he was just confused. Had no idea what the hell to do. Thinking on it, it had obviously been stupid as fuck to think you’d want him when he was literally a dead body. Couldn’t exactly stroll down the street, holding his one hand without garnering a few odd looks and arrests. 

  So, what could he do now? Sit in the closet and think about everything. Try to remember everything about his last moments alive—and when it had him wheezing in the closet, cowering in the dark, he’d switched to thinking about his uncle. Concerned. Wondering what had happened to him. When that subject, too, began to promise a panic attack—he switched to thinking about you, and oh how he ached in a different way. You were right there, in reach for him and yet the two of you couldn’t be. 

  The most frustrating part is how good the two of you could be for each other, and Eddie literally couldn’t talk you into giving it a chance, couldn’t even flirt with you. 

  He had some mad rizz when given the opportunity, a body that wasn’t stiff as hell and a fucking voice. Eddie knew he’d be able to get you all shy and cute, similar to how you were when you talked about what you thought he was like back at the cemetery. 

  FUCK. What the hell? Life wasn’t fair to him, death wasn’t fair to him, now life as some zombie wasn’t gonna be fair to him?

  What kind of fucked up existance was this?!

  All because of some stupid fucking lightning that—

  Lightning. Eddie perked up, theories racing through him. If it had brought him back from the dead, maybe it could do more. Before he could think on it further, he heard your door open and froze. 

  It was too soon for you to be home. You said you’d be back in the afternoon, after Laura had left. 

  Eddie heard a scoff.

  “How has it gotten even worse in here?” Laura mumbled to herself. 

  Eddie scowled, as he heard her footsteps enter your room, could hear her padding around. 

  The fuck was she doing in here?

  It was a risk, Eddie pushed the closet door open, just enough to give him a crack to peep through. 

  Your stepmom was in some sort of jazzercise outfit—ugh, of course she did jazzercise. The blonde woman was currently rummaging through your drawers, looking amongst your belongings. 

  She was invading your privacy.

  If Eddie had blood flowing through his veins, it would have been boiling. 

  He’d heard what she said last night, how she berated you. Accusing you of using your mother’s murder to seek attention.

  And the other members of your family weren’t speaking up nearly enough to defend you. He was surprised that Chrissy—small town for Cunningham to be the Chrissy you’d been telling him about—even tried to defend you but she should have been putting her mother in her place. She hadn’t come up to check on you, either. 

  Eddie had a few things he wished he could say to Laura Cunningham, tell her exactly where she could shove her stupid figurines and verbal abuse. 

  If she was searching for something, Laura didn’t find it. She slammed one of your drawers shut, eyed your sketches pinned to your wall with disgust before speed walking out of your room. When she passed the closet, Eddie took notice of the headphones over her ears, could hear whatever she was listening to, Walkman probably set to the loudest volume.

  Eddie’s mouth chipped up into a smirk that kind of hurt his face. He opened the closet door fully, stumbling out to poked his head out of your bedroom doorway just in time to see your stepmom disappear down the stairs.

  Eddie followed, steps loud and uneven. Laura didn’t notice his presence, too engrossed in whatever she was listening to and occupied with her own ego. Looked to be cleaning up the place before her little trip. 

  Laura disappeared into the kitchen, well out of view of the living room so Eddie stumbled in, eyeing the pristine setting. The place looked impeccable, spotless, antiques everywhere that Eddie just knew the old bat was dying to have people ask about so she could name drop and be as haughty as possible.

  Eddie could wreck all of this in no time, and he would if he didn’t know she’d immediately blame you for it. He still felt guilty you’d been chewed out for the mess he made. 

  Bitch.

  Eddie heard her returning, so he hid behind the wall, waiting a few moments before he peered around it and across the foyer, into the dinning room where she was seated after having fixed herself something. Laura still had the headphones on, so Eddie took that as the all clear to continue exploring.

  He spotted a family portrait hung over the fireplace, a seemingly picture perfect family was displayed. A man he assumed to be your father loomed over Laura and Chrissy, one hand on each of their shoulders. Eddie barely glanced at them before you pulled all of his attention. You were stunning, light catching the highlights of your face, lips parted just enough to encourage a pout. Your hair was wild in comparison to the other women in the portrait—Eddie loved it. You looked like you belonged on an album cover for some rock band, even with the sorrow swirling around in your eyes. Your unwavering melancholic stare pinned Eddie, and he could feel himself getting protective over you again. You must have been miserable that day. 

  See, if he had been around, he could have easily cheered you up. Snuck over on the day in question. Laura would have hated his fucking guts—Eddie wouldn’t have minded being the boyfriend your stepmom didn’t approve of.  Horsing around behind the little photo shoot set up to get you smiling, get those pretty eyes of yours twinkling before whisking you the hell out of there once they got the money shot.

  He rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself as he turned away from the past that never was. Couldn’t have (he’d already been dead), should have (but couldn’t) and would have. In a heartbeat.

  His posture worsened under the weight of his own despair, sulking with it until he spotted an acoustic guitar, tucked in the corner and resting on a stand.

  “Mm?” Eddie tilted his head in curiosity before making his way over. It was difficult to do, but he managed to settle the neck of it in the crook of the arm lacking a hand, and strummed with his stiff fingers, pleased to find that it was already tuned. 

  He plucked a couple more chords, stopping once to adjust a peg. Then the doorbell rang and Eddie’s eyes widened. He fumbled to place the guitar back on its stand and plaster himself against the wall as Laura got up to answer it, having apparently been able to hear it ring but not his guitar playing.

  “Yes?” Laura asked as she opened the door, impatience soaking through her tone.

  “Carpet cleaning.” A man’s voice stated, sounding bored beyond measure. 

  “Carpet Cleaning? My carpet is so clean you can lick the fibers.” God, was your stepmom ever not insufferable? The carpet cleaner salesman seemed to be thinking the same thing and Eddie figured he had to be annoyed with his work day already to say what he did next.

  “I doubt the one downstairs is.” The salesman snorted and Eddie would have snickered if he could as he heard Laura let out an affronted and embarrassed gasp. 

  “EXCUSE ME?!” 

  The guy must have turned tail because Laura was stepping out after him, yelling as she closed the front door behind her. 

  Eddie eyed the bowl she’d been eating from, curiosity getting the better of him as he stumbled over to inspect it. Spaghetti.

  He shouldn’t….But what was the point of being a dead corpse if he couldn’t use dead guy powers for good?

  It only took a little effort, Eddie successfully gagged and heaved until a warm that had been lurking in his stomach came out, dropping out of his mouth to wiggle around in Laura’s lunch. Eddie watched as it disappeared between the noodles and sauce, satisfaction filling him.

  Served the hag right.

  With justice served, Eddie made his way back upstairs to your room. He’d just made it to your doorway when he heard Laura return. He waited a few more moments for her to sit down, settle herself, twirl some spaghetti around her fork and put it in her mouth.

  Eddie was beginning to think the worm had made its way to the very bottom of the bowl when Laura let out a high pitched scream. 

  That one was for you.

  Eddie smirked and walked back into your room, quietly closing the door behind him.

  You had two classes for the day, back to back so as to not have to stay on campus longer than necessary, and both classes were pleasant. There hadn’t been any change in the materials covered or anything, eyes just kept attempting to discreetly take you in, which you caught from your peripheral vision. 

  While you enjoyed the new attention your attire and the way you carried yourself brought you, you quickly realized it wasn’t something you needed. What you needed was to feel good about yourself and for once in your life, you did. 

  You were absolutely giddy, and you felt so badass somehow, was this what Chrissy and her friends felt like all the time? Maybe putting effort into your appearance wasn’t just a load of crap dispelled onto ugly people by the conventionally attractive. 

  Regardless, you were strutting your way to the library, eager to turn in some books, make Steve Harrington’s jaw drop, then run back home to Eddie so you could thank him profusely for not having fugly taste.

  Once you made it to the library, you noticed no one was at the front desk. Steve must have been putting some books back on their shelves.

  No problem, more time to prepare yourself, maybe run through some possible conversations so you wouldn’t go stupid at the sight of his gorgeous face.

  Your bag hit the ground with a thud, thanks to the weight of the hardcovers within it and you bent down at the waist to rummage through it, placing one heavy hardcover book, two heavy hardcover books, three heavy hardco—

  “You got the rest of the library in there, Mary Poppins?”

  You snapped back up, whipping around just in time to see Steve’s gaze rise from where your ass had been unknowingly on display, to meet your eyes, his honey brown ones swirling with warmth.

  Oh, god. Just play it cool.

  “Just some tampons and some chips.” 

  Leave. Walk out. Save face.

  “No chocolate for that time of the month?” He asked, leaning up against the desk, rather than going around it to handle your returns. Steve wanted to talk to you. He’d been eyeing your ass and now he was making small talk. 

  You were going for it. 

  “Craving a different kind of sweet thing right now.” You leaned in, just as he had at the tailor’s yesterday. You were laying it on thick, sure. It worked though. Steve leaned in, too, and you clocked the tick of his eyebrow. Interest. Holy shit—things were finally looking up for you.

  “I’ve got some starbursts in my car,” Chrissy chirped, materializing out of thin air to stand in front of you and Steve. 

  You almost knocked down the books you’d stacked on the desk, cursing under your breath. “Geez, Chrissy.”

  “Hi.” She grinned at you, her darling crooked teeth gleaming before she was fixing Steve with a stern look, “Sorry, I need to talk to my sister. Preferably, alone.”

  “I’m not exactly gonna run to the gossip columns about anything.” He mused, exchanging an amused look with you but you couldn’t really hear anything going on around you because Steve Harrington was flashing you smiles around Chrissy, your pretty and practically perfect step-sister, and not her. You’d entered another dimension and you did not want to leave. All you could do was smile back at him, like some infatuated idiot while your fingers reached up to pick at your lower lip.

  “That may be so, but I think it’s best if she hangs around a good crowd.” Somehow, Chrissy had wedged herself between you and Steve, standing protectively in front of you with her arms crossed. She was about as intimidating as a pomeranian. Still, it was endearing to have someone act like they cared about you.

  “And the library is just full of Neanderthals, is that what you’re implying?” Steve leaned both elbows back on the desk, gesturing out to the few students—most meek in appearance—occupying the area.

  “I was thinking more of creepy librarians, high school peakers, and former playboys.” Chrissy shot back and you nudged her, hissing out her name. The protective thing was nice, just not when she was trying to scare away the man you’d be making your boyfriend.

  “Golden coming from you, of all people, your royal highness, the Queen of Hawkins High; former head cheerleader and Miss Hawkins of ‘87, but not ‘88 and I’m pretty sure Heather Holloway won again this year, so looks like we both don’t have a lot going on, do we?” Steve was smug, shooting you a wink that made your heart melt and drip down your sternum.

  Steam was practically blowing out of Chrissy’s ears, “Shoo fly, don’t bother us.” 

  Steve rolled his eyes before they fixed on you, past Chrissy’s head, “I’ll see you later okay? Thanks for bringing your books back on time.”

  You giggled, still staring at him as Chrissy began to tug you away, “Until the next time, I guess?”

  Steve held your stare, smirk softening into a smile, “I’ll be waiting.”

  It was easy for Chrissy to guide you out after that. You were floating. Light as a feather and high on life.

  “You are the only girl I know who can survive a spiked drink and still want to have anything to do with the guy.” Chrissy sighed in exasperation as the two of you loitered by the drinking fountain, “There’s like at least four other guys here who would date you, sissy! Don’t waste your time on that one.”

  Okay. Only four other guys? Ouch. “Steve didn’t spike it. Carol did.”

  “And she’s always following him around like some sad little mutt. Better to just stay away.”

  You scowled, mood souring. One afternoon. You couldn’t have just one afternoon where you felt good about yourself without someone bringing you down. You knew Chrissy meant well, but in that moment, she was pissing you off. 

  She seemed to pick up on the shift of your attitude, changing the subject, “After practice, I’m gonna go out tonight. Some of the girls want to go bowling and then have a little kick back. Cover for me?”

  How very much like Chrissy to insult you in the name of protectiveness, and then ask you for a favor. She still cared more about you than your own flesh and blood, so, “I thought your mom was gonna be away for a few days in Akron.”

  “She is, but daddy’s not. And he’s way too overprotective, I can’t even sneeze without him bursting into my room to ask me what’s wrong. He always wants to know where I’m going, argues with me when I try to go out late—it’s so annoying.”

  All you could think about were the many times you’d said goodbye to him as you left the house at whatever hour you wanted while he mumbled a bye and read whatever magazine he was reading or watched TV. 

  You tried to consider it a good thing that he let you be so independent, yet something in you ached, sure he simply didn't care enough for you. Not like he did Chrissy, and he’d known you longer, all your life. 

  “Oh. Uhm, I think he works late today, anyway. I’ll cover if he asks, but I’m sure you’re good.”

  Chrissy perked up, pulling you into a tight hug, “You are the best! I knew I was gonna love having you as a sister. I’ll see you later, okay?”

  Chrissy didn’t wait for your reply, practically bouncing down the hallway and you sighed. 

  At least you’d have some peace and quiet, maybe you could get Eddie into better shape too, and you’d get to tell him about your day!

  With your classes done, you made your way to the parking lot, where Mystery waited for you. 

  You slid the back door of the Volkswagen open, tossing your bag in before sliding the door shut and climbing into the driver's seat of the bus. Then you started your mantras and manifestations, gripping the key with a sweaty palm before you were sticking it into the ignition and turning it with bated breath.

  She roared to life and you sagged back in your seat, bones like jelly knowing you piece of crap bus was still kicking.

  It was the biggest lemon of a car you’d ever seen, carried around jugs of coolant in the back because it had to be refilled almost every time you started it.

  But it was yours.

  When you pulled up to the house to see Laura’s car was gone, you felt yet another weight lifted off your shoulders. You were completely free to be you. Snatching your bag from the back, you made a run for your house, quickly unlocking the door before stampeding up the stairs. 

  You burst into your bedroom, chest heaving to find it in normal condition and no Eddie around. Frowning, you tossed your bag on the floor, beside your bed, and made your way over to the closet, yanking the doors open.

  Eddie peered up at you from his position on the floor, rocking an old feather boa of yours.

  “Eddie, I told you you were free to roam once Laura left. You don’t have to stay cramped in there all day when no one is around.” You offered him a hand and helped hoist him when you took it, “You wouldn’t believe the day I had—you’ve got stellar taste, by the way.”

  “Uuungh?”

  You reached under your bed, snatching an old Easter basket out that you used to hide your snacks. After you settled on the bed, you patted the spot next to you, and Eddie hobbled his way over, grunting as he settled onto the cushy comforter.

  “I know I was grumpy this morning. I’m sorry, you were right. The dress was a hit!” You exclaimed, ripping a bag of sour gummy worms open. The pink end was clenched between your teeth as you bit it off, bag of sweet and sour treats held out to Eddie as an offering.

  Eddie reached into the bag, attempting to crook his fingers enough to hook one. You watched the leathery skin between his brows pull—if you had blinked, you would have missed it—as he struggled to free his hand from the bag, shaking it a little until you pinched the bottom firmly, allowing him to pull it out.

  “Unngh.” He grunted in thanks. 

  As Eddie moved onto the challenge of getting the gummy worm to his mouth, you went back to telling him about your day, “I mean, god—all I did was put on a little dress and I felt kind of invincible. Not to mention Steve Harrington seemed to like it.”

  Eddie froze, gummy worm hanging out of his mouth, “Mm?”

  “Steve Harrington, did’ ya know him?” You asked, steamrolling right on as if you hadn’t, “Talk about winning the genetic pool—that man is so fine. We talked a little at that party I told you about, and before I did drugs, he was being so nice to me. And I didn’t look as hot as I do now, so I was hoping for a reaction out of him—BOY did I get it.”

  You let out a dreamy sigh, recalling the way Steve had leaned into your straightforward flirting.

  “He’s kind, funny, and sometimes he even has good book recommendations. He’s like the total package and I think he might actually like me.”

  You paused your ranting to look over at Eddie. If you didn’t already know his face was stuck like that, you would have thought he was scowling. 

  “You got a little…” Reaching a hand up to cup his jaw, your thumb lifted the gummy worm hanging out of his mouth the rest of the way up. Eddie’s cracked lips parted, just enough for you to press the rest of it in, then he chewed slowly, face not even twitching to clue you in on his emotions. 

  “There.” Your hand dropped back into your lap as you perked up, “I wanna assume he’s better than the other horndogs who popped woodies just because I wore a dress and flashed some leg.”

  You stuck out your leg to demonstrate, the dress slipping even further up your thigh as you held it out, smooth (mostly, she was a little prickly but no one would notice unless they were stroking it) skin on display under some fishnet stockings.

  Eddie let out a pained sounding groan, which you figured meant he was agreeing with you about the rest of the male population. 

  “Yeah. Well, I think everything’s gonna work out perfectly. Even if Chrissy keeps butting into my love life like some fairy chastity-mother. God—I just, I’ve never been close to actually having something I wanted before, you know?”

  Eddie whined from behind closed lips, holding up the wrist that lacked his hand. 

  “What?” You asked, glancing down at the scarf wrapped around it. Eddie reached up with his fucked up fingers to point at where his ear should have been and it clicked for you, “Eddie, I can’t pull an extra hand and ear outta my ass. I wish I could, but I don’t have spare human parts lying around like pieces of a vacuum.”

  Eddie whined again and this time you could actually see his lips pulling down, frowning.

  “I told you I wish I could, but I can’t! I don't know how to get people parts and I don’t exactly have the black market on speed dial. Besides—you’re fine like this, I mean what are you able to do as walking dead guy anyways?”

  “MUUUUNGGGHHHH!” Eddie groaned, loud and obviously upset as he dramatically flung himself back on the bed hard enough to shake it.

  “Hey!” You snapped, fearful for your bed frame, “Chill out dude—don’t act all coked out!”

  He turned his head, face miserable but before you could continue your scolding, you heard your name called upstairs.

  Laura.

  “SHIT, hide!” Eddie stumbled up and barely even had the chance to turn around before you shoved him into your closet, shutting the doors.

  You’d barely stepped away when Laura burst into your room. She was dressed in her nurse uniform, complete with the stupid hat, yet there was something off with her. Her skin had a grayish tint to it, she looked clammy, eyes and nostrils red with irritation and her mascara was running. Laura Cunningham looked just as terrible on the outside as she was inside.

  And for once, she scared you.

  “Laura! I thought you were headed out of town for your trip.” Laura’s stare was even colder than you’d ever seen it, unnaturally icy blue eyes both vacant and filled with a deranged sort of rage. You expected her pupils to turn into slits any second, it would be the last physical trait she’d need to resemble a demon.

  Stepmother from hell, indeed.

  “Mmm, I’m sure you were looking forward to that,” Her voice was soft, almost gentle and nothing about it was kind. It was as if to coax you forward to her, lull you into a sense of ease before striking. You were reminded of the anglerfish, and the glow of their fin ray. They used it to draw unsuspecting prey towards the light before they were devoured. 

  You took a small step back. She took one forward.

  “I suppose I’ll just have to attend next year, I’ll be skipping the conference this year. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to do much learning or networking with my head plastered in a toilet bowl. I seem to have come down with something. Do you know what my symptoms are?” She asked, voice so sugary sweet and thick. 

  “Uhm. I-I’ve been on my period. Maybe we synced?” You hated how small your voice sounded.

  Laura’s lips pressed into a thin, cruel smile, “No. I haven’t been throwing up with a cramping stomach because of my period. I’ve been vomiting non-stop because a little slut under my roof is trying to kill me. And do you know who that psychotic little tramp is?”

  Your eyebrows furrowed, mouth parting in shock. Did your stepmother just call you a slut?

  “ANSWER ME WHEN I AM TALKING TO YOU!” She bellowed, making you jump and gasp. You’d never heard Laura raise her voice like that, it dropped several octaves and she was staring at you with nothing but pure hatred burning in her eyes.

  All you could do was shake your head. You were terrified, but you weren’t about to play her game. You were neither a slut nor a tramp and it was clear, regardless of what you’d say or do, she’d be unleashing her wrath upon you.

  Laura chuckled without humor, “You really are just a stupid, insignificant bitch, aren’t you? I open up my home to you and you do nothing but cause trouble every time I so much as turn my head. I have been nothing but kind to you, even after you wrecked my home. I’ve been an angel. But putting worms in my food?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, I didn’t touch your food, I just got home from classes. An—And I didn’t ask for any of this, I didn’t ask to move here.” You could see tears beginning to blur your vision, welling up and threatening to cascade over your lower lashes. They didn’t. You refused to cry in front of her. Refused to give her that satisfaction. 

  “Oh, please.” Laura scoffed, looking at you in bewilderment, “Did you want to stay in the house where your mother was sliced and diced? Was that a comfort for you?”

  “You know that’s not what I meant, I didn't want to start my life over in some town full of ignorant people.” You gritted out, hand clenching the bag of gummy worms.

  “Ignorant people, and yet—you still don’t fit it in. Telling isn’t it?”

  Despite your fear, you felt your own rage starting to build within you and before you could stop yourself, you spat out “What do you care? You never wanted me here. You just wanted my dad here in your clutches and you knew that wouldn’t happen if we hadn’t moved. He would have never chosen you over my mom.”

  Laura sneered, “It’s not much of a choice when she’s rotting in some coffin, six feet under, is it? I’m sure she’s relieved to be done with you and all the disgusting things you do for attention.”

  “Shut up!” You demanded, seething now as the devil incarnate dared to speak about your mother in such a disrespectful manner. Laura was only able to sleep in a bed alongside your father—wear that tacky ring on her finger because your mother had tragically lost her life. 

  Laura wouldn’t be but a mosquito in the room if your mother were alive.

  You hadn’t been expecting the strike that came next, hadn’t been prepared for Laura to pull her arm back and swing it forward, cracking your cheek so hard you almost spun. You yelped, hand reaching up to press against the skin of your cheek, feeling it throb and sting under your touch.

  She fucking hit you. You gaped at her in disbelief and Laura didn’t look remotely apologetic.

  “I am beyond tired of you and I am not going to wait until some maniac guts me to be rid of you. Especially when you’re already a threat to my life. No. I won’t stand for it, so I took it upon myself to begin your admittance to Hawkins National Psychiatric Center.

  Your blood ran cold as images of the unsettling ‘center’ flooded your mind. You’d heard of it before, horror stories told amongst your peers. A psych ward. And Laura Cunningham was going to have you committed. 

  “No, please. No.” You whispered, voice laced with fear.

  “It’s for the good of everyone,” Laura began, leering over you. “You don’t belong here. Your place is locked up, solitary confinement where no one will have to see you ever aga—

  THUNK.

  Laura let out the smallest of gasps.

  You watched the unsettling blue of her eyes give away to whites and red veins as they rolled to the back of her head, her body going limp as she tipped forward and fell face first to the ground. Your mouth dropped open as you watched her collapse, gurgling and twitching on the ground for just a few seconds before she went still. Then your gaze flitted to Eddie, who stood tall with your old sewing machine clutched in his hand, a corner stained red. 

  Your eyes flashed back down to Laura, and they widened in size when the pink of your carpet began to turn a bright red, blood seeping out of her skull to pool around her head and soak into the floor.

  Eddie made a grunt that sounded more so like a noise of satisfaction and tossed the sewing machine back into the closet. 

  You heard them before you saw them. Eddie had found the small pair of scissors included with your sewing machine and clipped them in the air before he bent down. You could only watch, stunned silent and with morbid curiosity as Eddie snipped your stepmother’s ear off.

  “Oh, god…” You finally found your voice, eyes darting anywhere else to avoid seeing the skin severed. You breathing became labored, chest rising and falling rapidly as you staved off a panic attack while your undead friend cut the ear from Laura’s dead body.

  Eddie held it up in triumph, like it was some sort of medal rather than a human ear.

  “Wha─? Why─?” You couldn’t even finish a sentence and Eddie must have noticed how distraught you were. He rose from the floor, stepping over Laura’s body to pull you into his arms and despite what had just occurred, you returned the embrace; arm slipping under his to clutch at the back of his shoulder, desperate for the comfort he was offering. His hand rubbed circles over your back and you leaned your cheek against Eddie’s shoulder, stare never once leaving Laura’s body as you whimpered.

  When he pulled back—just enough to be able to look at your face—he held the ear up, towards you.

  You knew exactly what he was asking you to do.

  ”Eddie…I—I can’t. I can’t do that…We have to bury the body first.” You placed a hand on his chest, leaning into him again as you both turned your heads to stare at someone who was no longer a problem for you. For the first time, in a very long time, you felt safe.

  Eddie had rescued you.

Moving the body was surprisingly easy. You’d expected Eddie’s limbs to be fragile for some reason, a foolish thought considering he’d so easily crashed through your window that first night. Eddie actually possessed a great deal of strength, easily lifting Laura’s body—wrapped in sheets—and carrying her downstairs. 

  Movement seemed to be getting easier for him, limbs that had been out of use for years returning to life and unstiffening just as he had. If his arms could support Laura’s body with no problem, you wondered what had happened to his missing hand in the first place.

  You made sure the coast was clear before you pulled your bus up the driveway and Eddie placed the body in the back. It obviously hadn’t been strapped down, so while you drove to the cemetery, Laura’s body was rolling around, banging against the sides of the Volkswagen. Eddie just turned up the music you’d been playing.

  The cemetery was vacant, thanks to the relatively early time of the day. Most people still hadn’t gotten off of work yet, which made this easy for you and Eddie. It wasn’t the most respectful thing to do—you were just out of options. A grave had already been dug out, for some poor recently deceased soul (not Laura, she could go to hell), so, the two of you had quite literally dumped Laura’s body into the empty hole and covered her with a layer of dirt so she’d go unnoticed when they’d lower the coffin, of whoever’s grave this was, into it. 

  After the deed was done, the two of you stood side-by-side, staring into it. 

  “Is death comforting?” You asked, breaking the silence. Eddie didn’t answer, didn’t even grunt, so you turned your head to the side to find him already staring at you. 

  He shook his head. 

  “Good. C’mon.” You gave the burial plot, now and forever housing Laura, an extremely and aggressively disrespectful finger, and tugged Eddie back to the bus. He went willingly after kicking some more dirt into it.

  When the two of you returned home—after you briefly stopped for ice cream while Eddie waited in the bus—you’d gotten straight to work; Eddie’s head in your lap as you sewed the ear into place.

  While you threaded the needle through the skin, Eddie waited patiently, thumb playing with your fishnets. Once you knotted the string and used your teeth to nip off the excess, you admired your work. 

  Good stitching, secure and it wouldn’t fall off. The coloring was a bit odd, skin appearing obviously more lively than Eddie’s dull gray-green tint. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  “Done.” You announced, hands resting on the mattress at your sides. Slowly, Eddie rose to a sitting position, head shifting around to face you, “What’s the survey say? Ear any good? Hear anything?”

  Those big, deep brown, baby cow eyes of his looked despondent as he shook his head. 

  “Mm-mm.”

  You sighed, feeling a bit despondent yourself. He’d saved you from a life of medicated compliance and padded walls, and you couldn’t even get the human ear you’d stitched to the side of his head to work. You felt guilty knowing you couldn’t make him whole again, as he so desperately wanted to be. Couldn’t be his blue fairy.

  You reached your fingers up, tips brushing alongside the soft outer edge of his ear. How funny that an appendage that had once belonged to the nastiest person you’d ever encountered, a woman who hated your very existence, was now endearing because it was a part of the guy before you. Your friend. Your protector. What had taken place that afternoon would no doubt lead to trouble, but you knew Eddie hadn’t acted out of malice. 

  He’d simply wanted to help you. And—okay, yes, he got an ear out of it, but it didn’t work. What mattered is that you weren’t alone anymore. You had someone that actually cared about you. Enough to kill for you, even. 

  It felt…like you mattered to someone.

  “I’m sorry.” You mumbled in disappointment, “I really did think it was gonna work, too. Guess Laura’s still useless, even when she’s dead.”

  Your hand dropped back into your lap as the two of you simultaneously heaved out sighs. 

  “At least you have something there, you know?” You tried to see the positive side, keep Eddie happy, “Like nipples with boob jobs. The dial doesn’t work but you can still turn the knob.” 

  He made a humming sound, contemplating the analogy, weighing it as his head tilted this way and that way. 

  “Maybe it’ll catch up with you later, like the rest of your body. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you getting better at moving around.” You teased, nudging your shoulder playfully against his.

  Eddie stiffened and you thought you might have offended him, “I mean—I’m not paying super duper close attention or anything, I just like to watch you—It’s not like I see a living dead guy every day.”

  “Unngh.” Eddie seemed to pay no attention to your word vomiting, pointing at a sharpie on your nightstand. 

  “What? This?” You reached over and snagged it, offering it to him. He carefully took it from your hands, his hardened fingers brushing over your soft ones, and awkwardly popped the cap off with his thumb. 

  Your eyebrows shot up as Eddie began doodling on the skin of your hand near your thumb and index finger. 

  “Why did I think you were illiterate?” You mused aloud and Eddie briefly stopped to glare at you and grunted, unamused, “You can’t blame me, you could have picked up a pen and paper this entire time, hell—I have an Etch A Sketch you could have been using instead of making me decipher your ‘uuunnngghhss’.” You did your best impression of his zombie grunting and he put the sharpie between his thighs so he could flick the cap at you. 

  Like an expert dodger, you lifted your hand just in time for it to bounce off your palm as you giggled and he went back to finishing up his little doodle. 

  A lightning bolt. 

  Your lips pulled into a soft smile as you admired it, something warm pooling in your belly. It was cute and there was something very attractive to you about walking around with Eddie’s little sketch on you.

  An Eddie Was Here, if you will.

  And then it hit you. Lightning.

  “OH.”

  Eddie grunted, pleased that you’d picked up on what he was trying to convey.

  “But how are we gonna…” You trailed off, brows furrowing as a montage of the two of you played in your head; sticking a metal rod in the ground with Eddie holding onto it as you waited for some approaching storm to electrocute him. The only problem was the weather forecast for the week predicted nothing but sunshine and clear, starry nights. No electrocution for the week. Unless…. “Oh my god.”

  You turned to Eddie, grinning almost maniacally, “I’m a genius.”

  Forty minutes later, you found yourself staring at your reflection in the vanity mirror Chrissy had set up inside the tan shack. It was softly aglow with pink and warm hued fairy lights, and neon blue coming from the tanning bed. One of her beauty pageant crowns was placed on your head, and you had to admit, it did make you feel pretty. It looked good on you, too. Huh. Maybe you should have done pageants, could have won one, even.

  Sparks flew from the tanning bed, some feet away, with Eddie inside of it. 

  It was the next best thing to actually being struck by lightning. Well, it was either the tanning bed or electrocuting him in the small pool with a plugged in radio, but you didn’t want to get wet.

  You grabbed a little fairy wand, no doubt part of one of Chrissy’s pageant costumes—probably Galinda—and posed with it, pleased with your reflection. Your hair was frizzy and it somehow added to your allure. 

  You could rock with this confidence thing for a while if it made you not hate yourself like usual. 

  The tanning bed’s buzzing whirled down until it was silent, save for a few random sparks, and the bed opened up, top lifting to reveal Eddie laying in a cloud of smoke, wearing those little goggles you’d insisted on to protect those pretty eyes of his.

  You got up to check on him, tapping his chest with the end of the wand, “You baked enough?”

  He groaned as he sat up and dinged his head on the top of the tanning bed and you flinched, dropping the wand.

  “Ooh, yeah, I’ve been there too.”

  Grabbing onto his hand, you helped pull him out of the tanning bed to sit on the edge and sat beside him, pushing the goggles up his large forehead and pinning away his bangs.

  Eddie didn’t say anything, just blinked sluggishly. He was baked alright, that voltage was no joke.

  “Eddie,” You leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Can you hear me in there?”

  No reaction. 

  “EDDIE MUNSON, CAN YOU HEAR ANYTHING I AM SAYING?!”

  To your amazement, Eddie flinched away from your shrieking, and with his face turned to you, you noticed he looked different, skin more…skin like. Not the leather you’d noticed before. He still hadn’t answered you, so you kept going, “IS THAT A YES—YEAH?”

  Eddie groaned out, face affronted as you continued to scream at him and your shrieking turned into screams of excitement. Eddie joined you in yelling (well, he tried, it was very loud groaning) when it dawned on him.

  It worked. Eddie Munsons had two working ears.

  “Oh my god!” You flung yourself at him and immediately jolted away when you got shocked. Eddie reached out for you, resting his hand on your shoulder, “No, it’s okay, that was on me. I got too excited, but oh my god! Eddie! It worked! We got you a working ear!” 

  You were beaming, felt like you’d cracked the secret of life. And it looked like Eddie was trying to smile at you, corners of his lips pulled up just a tad. 

  The two of you looked ridiculous, you with your frizzy hair, crown and fairy wand, and Eddie with his electrocuted hairdo, tanning goggles making his bangs look insane and a slightly discolored (actually, it was looking more like his skin tone now, bizarre) ear, with one earring and one hand.

  You glanced down at your arm; specifically, at Eddie’s arm resting against it. The one that lacked a hand.

  Well, you’d already started. 

  “I think I know someone who can give you a hand.”

[strangerthings-01]

High as a kite

Plot: When you’re over at eddies house, you watch him roll up a joint and curiosity takes over. Eddie guides you through smoking weed for the very first time.

Warnings: slight cussing, mentions of weed. (Clearly)

I’m working on kind of a long story so I’m trying to write shorter ones to keep up my page since I’ve been gone so long. I hope you enjoy, my friends. 🩷

💜💜

Almost everyday after school, you and Eddie go back to his trailer to hang out and by hang out, kissing and you know what occurs. Usually he smokes a joint or two and everytime he offers you a hit and everytime you decline. You had never smoked weed before and if you were being honest, it kind of scared you. You knew it couldn’t really hurt you but drugs has never been something you ever considered doing.

“It’s a natural plant babe. Safest one out there.” He would always reassure you but it still never wavered your concern. He never pressured though. He would ask you each time he rolled up a joint because he figured one day you night change your mind but once you said no, he would drop the subject. He was good like that. You couldn’t believe he was yours.

Eddie was naturally funny. He could always make you smile or laugh no matter what mood you were in. But when he was high, you would always be clutching your stomach from laughing so hard. He was fun to be around and wasn’t different from when he was sober. You liked that.

Your curiosity about the plant had started to grow stronger the more you were exposed to it. You wondered what you would be like high. Would you be freaked out? Happy? Giggly? Probably all of the above. So when you and Eddie were hanging out again on a Saturday night, cuddled in bed, you finally caved.

He was rolling his joint up for the night and you watched him. You were in awe at his quickness as he used his fingers to stuff it and how his tongue flitted over the paper to close it up. You chewed on your lip, anxious to tell him you wanted to try it. Once he finally finished rolling it up, his eyes met yours and a grin formed on his face. “You good baby? You look nervous and entertained at the same time.” A deep chuckle came from his throat.

Your fingers intertwined with each other, something you did when you were apprehensive. “Yeah. I think I want to try to smoke tonight.” He had looked away to grab something but when those words came out if your mouth, you had never seen him turn so fast. “Wait really? Are you sure?” You smiled and nodded, your body shifting so you were facing him completely, your legs crossed. “Yeah. I’ve been curious about it lately and it’s a Saturday so I’ll have time to sleep it off.”

He smirked and reached over to grab a lighter. He grabbed the one you got for him randomly one day. It was a white lighter and had an outline of a couple printed on it. You thought it was super cute considering you guys were together. He loved it. “I didn’t pressure you, did I? I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

You quickly reassured him. “No no of course not. But I am really nervous. What if I freak out?” He reached over and rubbed you knee. “I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Despite your foreboding, there was no one else you could trust more than him. “Okay.” You stated in finality. “Fuck yeah baby girl. I’m happy you’re giving it a try.” Even though he tried his best not to sound too excited, you could tell he was. You knew he had been wanting you to try it.

He put the joint in his mouth and lit the other end, inhaling. You watched the lit side got brighter as he smoked and the smoke that released from his mouth. “It will make you cough since you haven’t done it before so make sure you take deep breaths when that happens. It will get worse if you panic. I do also have a cup of water on the table.”

“Okay.” You gently took the joint from his hand and glanced down at it, not sure how to approach it. “Some people inhale straight to the back of their throat but since you’re new, I would suck it into your cheeks and then inhale so it isn’t as harsh.” You took in his advice and put it up to your mouth. You did as he said and then finally Inhaled and exhaled, the smoke blowing in all different directions. You immediately started coughing which was uncomfortable but you made sure to breathe and it went away pretty quickly.

He had watched you the whole time and he looked proud which made you want to laugh. “The taste is so gross.” He laughed and shrugged. “It does but you get used to it. You did good.” You leaned over and kissed him, his response was immediate. “Thank you for being patient and so kind.” He kissed your cheek and gently took it back from you. “I love you. I’d never make you feel rushed or dumb about something.”

After a couple of hits, you started feeling dizzy and lightheaded. The room felt like it was spinning and nothing felt real. Your thoughts were so loud almost like someone was speaking words into your ears. You swore you could hear things outside, far away yet close. Everything felt heightened. You didn’t know why you felt so panicked or why there was so much pressure in your head. “Eddie?” You said softly trying not to freak out. He looked up from his phone and looked over at you. “Yeah? What’s up babe?” You placed a hand on your head and sighed heavily. “I feel so off. My head is spinning or the-the room is?”

He placed his phone besides his pillow not bothering to turn it off as he scooted closer to you. He wrapped an arm around you and stroked you arm, a comforting gesture. “It’s okay. You’re high sweetheart. This is normal.” You looked up at him and took a deep breath. “I’m high? Why does it feel like this?” He couldn’t help but release a soft laugh as he continued his soft touch on your arm. “Because you aren’t used to it. Your brain doesn’t understand what’s going on. Do you want some water?”

You cleared your throat and suddenly realized your mouth was super dry. How did he know that’s what you needed. “How did you-“ He cut you off as he stood up to the grab the water from the table. “Oh baby I’ve been smoking since 7th grade. Trust me. I just know.” You giggled even though it probably wasn’t as funny as it seemed in the moment. He still cracked a smile as he handed you the water. You sipped on it and felt the wet substance coat your mouth. He sat back down and took the glass from you when you were done.

After a couple minutes of silence, you started giggling and your hand went over your mouth. He scrunched his eyebrows as his face turned into a look of amusement. “What’s so funny?” You continued to laugh, a sound that was so contagious to him. “I don’t even know. I think I thought of something but I forgot.” He laughed along with you and shook his head. “You are something else pretty girl.”

You looked over at him and a sudden look of seriousness crossed your features. “You’re so beautiful. I love you.” Before he could respond, you gasped ever so slightly. “I’m hungry.” He snorted and bit his lip. “God you’re everything. Let’s go get you some food.”

You stood up immediately feeling a little wobbly but you gained your footing pretty quickly. “I could eat a mountain of food.” You stated as you walked with Eddie to the kitchen. He chuckled and slapped your ass as they started looking in the fridge for something to eat to satiate the munchies. “Oh I know. We better get a bunch of snacks and bring them back to the room. We’re gonna be here for a while.”

[slasher-male-wife]

My Valentine: Harry Warden x gn reader

So this is a kind of short and nothing too serious. I just wanted to put something out for Valentines day before the day passes. I might make a part two for this but I'll hopefully have more Valentines day stuff for y'all soon.

Themes: Angst?

Warnings: Home invasion, drugging, murder mentions, slight swearing

It was a stupid dare. A stupid dare that you should have never done in the first place. Your friends convinced you to go to the mines in your town and go down in them with nothing but a flashlight. You wanted to refuse but you knew you’d get shit for it if you didn’t do it. 

Now here you are. Walking down a dark mine tunnel with a flashlight in hand, trying to go deep enough to find a piece of coal to prove to your friends you actually went down there. Every creak, every groan of the wooden beams, every micro sonic noise you hear makes your body tense and mind ache with the effort of not running right back up to your friends. You finally reach low enough to find a piece of coal and you quickly pick it up, turning around and walking back towards the tunnel. You point your flashlight ahead as you speed through the mines. 

“Happy Valentines day Y/N, we know you’re single so we’ll hang out with you but you have to go into a dangerous mine and do a stupid dare.” You mumble to yourself in a bit of a bitter tone. But up in the distance a figure emerges from an alcove. You stop walking and point your flashlight down. They’re far from you, but you can tell they’re a miner, probably someone who forgot to go up earlier in the day. 

“Oh I’m sorry.” You say, trying to think of a way to explain yourself being down here, holding nothing but a piece of coal and a flashlight. You stuff the coal in your jacket pocket and clear your throat. “My uh boyfriend lost his wallet down here earlier and I went and got it for him. I hope you don’t mind me being down here. I wasn’t trying to pull anything, I promise.” You say, hoping whoever this is doesn’t call your bluff and get the police involved. You start to walk forwards again but the person doesn’t move from where they stand. 

Eventually, as you walk up within 20 feet of him he ducks back into the alcove. You pause, look around, then walk forward even faster. You peer into the alcove once you reach it but find nothing waiting for you there. You let out a breath from deep inside your chest before you point your flashlight ahead and get back to walking up the mine. 

But that man reminds you of that story from town. The man who went crazy in that mine in the 50’s and he went on a killing spree. You’re unsure what happened to him but his name. You can’t remember his name. You just shrug it off and sigh, getting closer and closer to the entrance.

Later that night you’re finally back at your house later that night. You turn on the light to the kitchen and walk in, sliding off your shoes and coat before you make your way further into the house. Soon you pick up on a strange smell. Something earthy and sour. You try to follow the smell but it’s not strong enough to come off in one central direction, so it’s probably just your clothes smelling funny after being down in the mines that night. 

You make your way upstairs into your bathroom and you turn on the shower when you hear a noise downstairs. You open the bathroom door and look down the stairs. It’s probably just your cat. But you hear it again, then again, and again. It sounds like something tapping against wood. You turn off the shower and slowly walk back downstairs. 

“Kitty? Kitty kitty.” You say, walking around downstairs trying to find the source of the knocking. After walking around aimlessly for a couple of minutes you finally find that the noise is coming from a closet. The silly cat must have gotten itself stuck in there. You sigh with a soft smile and shake your head. “Oh alright kitty I’ll get you out.” You say, walking over to the closet. You open the door but when you look at the ground you don’t see a cat waiting for you, you see a pair of large boots, then, looking up, you see the man they’re attached to, the man you saw in the mines. 

You’re stuck frozen for a moment as you just stare up at him. You can hear his breathing through the gas mask he’s wearing, the lens's darken to the point you can’t see his eyes behind them. The initial shock starts to wear off and you slowly back up as he starts to follow after you. You shake your head and turn, running away from him as fast as you can and over to your front door, practically breaking the handle from the door as you thrash it open and sprint out of it. 

You don’t even bother to check if he’s behind you as you run out to your car to find a human heart sitting on top of it, the words ‘Be mine forever’ written out on the hood of your car with blood. 

You suppress the urge to vomit and you shake your head before you see him making his way back over to you. You freeze up again momentarily before you start to run, looking around and trying to find another way back to town, not fully processing the cold, harsh ground on your bare feet. 

“Stay away from me! Stay away you fucker!” You shout back at the man chasing you. You keep running for a good couple of moments before you turn around and see that he’s gone, and it’s quiet. All you can hear is the beating of your heart deep inside your ears. You look around for a moment again before you start to run back to your house. You get inside and slam the door shut again. You rush over to your phone and try to dial 911 but your hands are too shaky to fully connect to the keys. 

“God damn it! Come on!” You shout desperately, trying to force your fingers down on the keys, your heart beat still ringing in your ears, stopping you from hearing the footsteps coming up behind you. You’re unable to stop yourself as an arm wraps around your torso and pulls you against a body. You know who it is. It’s him. Then the legend comes back to you, the miner from the 50’s. 

“Harry Warden.” You say to yourself breathlessly. Before you’re able to do anything else he shoves something that tastes like chocolate with a bitter medicine liquid taste in your mouth. You start to thrash and struggle against him but it’s no use as your body grows tired and limp against him. The last thing you remember being carried off bridal style by him. 

[seonghwaddict]

Hii

Im sad that nsn will be discontinued but i totally understands how it is for you. Im glad you are doing whats better for you, take care!!

Also, could you give the whole big spoilers pls?? Like the ending and the climax of the story and anything you wanna share cuz ill try to complete it in my head lmao

hii thanks for understanding, and of course i’ll share some stuff with you!

i’m not sure where exactly to start, but i suppose you’re probably wondering how yn finds out about the whole vampire thing, so that’s where i’ll start..

basically, you know how san has blood intolerance and specifically needs type O negative blood? yeah so there’s a shortage at some point and he doesn’t have access to it. over time he gets sicker and sicker but he’s afraid of telling the guys that he’s running out of his personal stash; he doesn’t wanna worry them. of course, once it’s too bad they obviously notice and he confesses it. whole of the guys travel around to look for blood bags, while the other ones stay and take care of san.

obv, yn has no idea what’s going on so she’s both worried and just like ??? through some connections, yeosang is able to access medical files of people that attend their uni (he paid a shit load of money he’s standing on business fr) and starts looking for people with that blood type, just in case. he just so happens to stumble across yn’s file in his search, who has exactly what they need.

after a conversation with the guys, they decide to admit to what they are. when the conversation comes around, yn kinda giggles and thinks it’s a joke, however after a long conversation, she’s convinced. and so after hearing about san’s state and what he needs to get better, she doesn’t have to think twice about offering herself.

anyways san gets better after that and the guys n yn grow closer than ever.

as for the climax

her friend, daniel, is also a vampy and is lowk obsessed with her but has been able to hide it alarmingly well. when he notices just how close she is to the guys, he tries his hardest to tuin their relationship and even kidnaps her (that might not be right because idk if it counts as kidnapping but i can’t think of a better word rn).

after like two days the guys realise they hadn’t heard from their fav girl in too long so some of them head to her apartment to check on her except she’s not there cuz she’s in a random cabin in the middle of a random forest with daniel.

throughout her stay there, while the guys are splitting themselves in half tryna find her, she grows more and more uneasy and tries to leave. daniel refuses to let her go and chains her up.

meanwhile, the guys interrogate her other friends to figure out where they could’ve possibly gone (they’ve alway smelled something fishy about daniel so it wasn’t hard to figure out who was responsible for her disappearance). sangmi mentions the cabin their little group goes to on some weekends, and then they’re immediately speeding to get there.

they kill daniel and save yn yay!

you’re probably also wondering how their romance ends up so..

obviously as time progresses, they all slowly but surely fall in love with yn and vice versa. for hongjoong tho, he was in denial for a long time. after the saved her he realised wow i rlly fucking like this girl and that scared him so he subconsciously distanced himself. he was partially afraid of losing her again bc he blames himself heavily for what happened to her and the trauma it cause for… certain reasons…

everyone caught on but the guys were aware of why but yn wasn’t cuz she’s a bit oblivious so one day she finds him in his room and decides to just ask what’s going on cuz she finally got him to look at her for the first time in like two weeks. she was afraid he was mad at her, and prepared herself for the worst, but then comes his 10 minute monologue confessing everything he feels and mentioning that the others feel the same way.

he’s crying but the end of his monologue and she can’t think of anything else to do but kiss him. anyways it’s a rlly cute scene i actually wrote it already cuz i was so excited for it.

and then after that they all gather to talk abt the elephant in the room and after a brief discussion they’re all dating and they live happily ever after.

[thinkin-bout-milgram]

Triage: Initial Thoughts

Hello! Venus back at it again with the 4-5 AM theory time! This time we’re looking at Shidou’s second MV, Triage! 

I’m going to be going through my various thoughts on everything as usual, going point by point to analyze each thing. I’ll be referencing Triage, his first MV Throwdown, and the always-fast audio drama translation by @onigiriico​! 

Alright, let’s do this!

Shidou’s kids died immediately, but his wife had a chance to live.

I’m basically just going to give a quick play by play of what I think happened in the video.

Surprise, Shidou has kids! And a wife, but we figured that already. They’re all very cute and all until they fade out like ghosts pretty early on. Before that happens, though, I think that, chronologically, the opening sequence of Shidou walking with some groceries happens first.

He’s just going about his day, walking around, having a great time. He’s intending to take stuff back to his family and cook dinner or whatever he usually does that we see in the cute scenes.

Then, though, he gets a phone call. He answers it (this is the untranslated “Kirisaki desu” part; please let us know if you find a full translation of what he says on the call there!) and we move on to the next scene. However, later, at 1:57, we hear the line die. I think that this is probably Shidou getting a phone call from the hospital. He sounds casual in his initial response because he probably assumes it’s work related, but once he hears what happened, he drops the line and immediately heads over.

I think Shidou’s kids must have died immediately because of Throwdown. Throwdown has absolutely no references to his kids (though he does mention liking children and stuff like that in his first audio drama, which now kinda stings) and, were he also trying to save them, I’m sure there would’ve been at least some references. 

I think it’s far more likely that, whatever happened, both his kids died immediately, but his wife was in a condition where he could still try to save her. That’s when Throwdown occurs. Shidou probably focused intensely on trying to save his wife as a way to cope with the death of his children. Then, after his wife officially died, it really hit him that he had nothing left, and he was forced to process it. That’s when he started feeling all the guilt and wishing for death. 

This isn’t really relevant, but my best bet is a car crash. It seems like a likely and viable way that his kids could’ve died instantly while the wife could’ve kept living. As a minor note on that, he’s also walking back with groceries, which could indicate that someone else (the rest of his family) might’ve had a car. I don’t remember if Shidou mentions anything about driving or anything like that at any time, but if I had to call a method of death right now, that’s what I’d go for.

NOTE: I do want to disclaim this by saying it’s also possible that one of his kids was the flower person in Throwdown. He gives a receipt to one of his kids, so that could make some sense. I need to go back and compare the flower person in Throwdown with the people in Shidou’s family now that they have appearances. I also need to reread his first audio drama; he says something about it being fitting that Es is judging him, which could check out if his crime relates to trying to save his kid instead. If I am wrong and it was one of his kids that he was trying to save, then everything about what I’m saying still checks out; just swap everything I say about his wife with one of the kids.

Shidou purposefully showed us the least forgivable parts of his crime in Throwdown.

Looking back on it, Shidou painted himself in an awful light in Throwdown, and I’m sure it was intentional. After all, he was trying to get us to give him a guilty verdict. If you say that a prisoner like Muu might have been altering what part of her story we received in order to get her desired verdict in the first round (innocent), Shidou could absolutely do the same thing with a guilty verdict.

He doesn’t show us any of the context of his loved ones and how much he loved them; that was all stuff we had to read between the lines of. We see him butchering plant after plant only to end in horrific failure without ever seeing him succeed at anything surgical. (He still should’ve hypothetically been saving lives while doing all of this; it’s not like he was ONLY killing people.) 

He even shows us the horrified reactions of the loved ones of patients he killed. I can only imagine that he would do that if he was trying to spark a negative reaction in us.

In contrast, this MV is very straightforwardly showing how the day he lost his family went for Shidou and directly examines what verdict Shidou wants (more on this later). I think, therefore, that this is probably a much more honest view of the situation than Throwdown, at least in terms of how Shidou perceives the truth. 

Shidou is constantly plagued by the guilt of what happened.

The simplest way to explain this is with this image: 

When showing Shidou’s family turning to ghosts, he views the man that he used to be as dying with them. Shidou, as he was, is dead. Still, what happened clearly still impacts him. That’s pretty obvious, but I’m talking down to the details. He mentions kids and liking them in both of his audio dramas. Further, take this lovely image: 

Pancakes. Shidou made pancakes for his kids. In BOTH Minigrams 3 (Pancake) and 24 (Pancake: a Second Trial) Shidou is directly shown talking about pancakes and their relation to children. He really wants Amane, the young child, to try some. It seems like he used to make pancakes for his kids before they died. He’s very clearly not recovered in any sense. That’s not surprising, but it’s still something to point out.

Triage takes place almost entirely before and after Throwdown.

That sounds a little confusing, but all I mean is that Throwdown is completely isolated from this MV. Some parts of this MV happen before the events of Throwdown; those are the ones featuring Shidou’s wife and kids, as well as the ones where he simply looks younger. The other parts are clearly looking back at the same time frame, but are from Shidou’s present perspective, here in Milgram. Those are the ones where he reflects on his verdict or directly addresses what verdict he wants.

Most directly, I think the part at 2:14 indicates this. Shidou, looking back on the death he caused (knives in the pomegranates and other food, dead flowers, receipts from the surgeries that we also saw in Throwdown), says “I want to be INNOCENT / I want to live.” That’s him, in the Milgram prison, right now, coming to terms with the fact that he actually, genuinely wants to live right now.

In the audio drama, he’s clearly conflicted. He still says that he wants to die, that he wants to atone for his sins and that dying is the only way he can make it up to the people he killed. He also, though, says that, at least for right now, he wants to live. Futa and especially Mahiru are on death’s door, and there’s no telling what other injury might occur. He believes he’s essential to saving lives within the Milgram prison (and I think he’s 100% right).

He even directly references this in the song lyrics, talking about “extracting the fang.” The fang is clearly Kotoko, given that Milgram has referred to the damage Kotoko does with fang imagery before and given that that’s what he’s currently healing. He has to be the one to save them because he’s the only one who can; as a result, to save lives, he has to care about his life right now. While he’s still unsure of what final verdict he wants, he knows that he needs to stay alive, at least going into trial 3.

VOTE: INNOCENT

Personally, this one’s a no-brainer. Es theorizes in the audio drama that Shidou only harvested organs from braindead patients, and though he never outright confirms it, based on his responses, it seems to me like that’s true. That means his crime isn’t as severe as we initially thought it was.

Additionally, he’s right; he is indispensable to us right now. He outright says in the audio drama that if he stops giving Mahiru care, she’ll die, whether or not anything else happens to her. That basically tells us that voting Shidou guilty means Mahiru dies. That’s not good, and I’d rather avoid prisoner death when we think it’s possible.

I also just don’t think it’s smart to change verdicts on him here. If we decide that, after all is said and done, we can’t forgive Shidou, we should do that with the third verdict. Here, we want to leave both options open. Right now, Shidou is torn between wanting to live and wanting to die. If we switch to guilty, we’ll ruin any chance he has at recovering a will to live and a will to atone through any means other than death. If we want to preserve the option of forgiving him in the end, I think we have to forgive him here. We can debate whether his actions were forgivable or not in the last round.

[tickle-her-senseless]

Cursed Number Roulette

Hey everyone!

Recently got back from Hysteria, where I had the best time at a community gathering I’ve ever had 🥰 While thinking about fun things to do with my friends ahead of the weekend, this game popped into my head.

The idea of putting friendships to the test via tickle torture by pitting people against each other has been powerful fantasy fuel for me since I read a story back when I was a kid figuring all of this stuff out. A lot of people scoff at the idea of games in sessions, and they’re not suited to every occasion - but I’ve always enjoyed the fresh twists they can add to a good time with play partners.

Sadly I didn’t get to test this one, as I ran out of time with the 2 lees for whom I invented it. Hopefully I’ll be able to try it soon, but if anyone does play it I’d be interested to hear how it goes and if there are any unforeseen issues! Anyway, here it is…

You will need:

1 ler

2 lees (ideally with a pre-existing friendship/relationship)

1 double bed or larger

2 sets of under-bed restraints or fancier gear if you have it

Rules:

1. The lees are restrained side by side, with the ler in between.

2. The ler makes a written note of a set of numbers, eg. “multiples of 6” or “numbers ending in 3 or 5” or “square or cube numbers” or “primes greater than 7” - whatever. I’d suggest around a 15-20% hit probability (see later) but you can adjust this as desired. The note is kept secret for now but shown to both lees at the end of the game.

3. The game begins as the ler tickles both lees at once, one hand on each. (The ler should switch hands regularly so that one lee doesn’t end up getting their dominant hand all the time.)

4. Either lee may call out a whole number between 1 and 100. At this point sequence A or B may play out:

A - the number is not in the “secret set”. The ler transfers both hands to the lee who did NOT call out for a full minute (a timer may be used) and steps up the intensity. A particularly effective tool could be included here if desired. This mechanic can be used by either lee as a way to take a rest or royally screw their friend over. Teasing/mocking one’s friend about their predicament while “safe” is in the spirit of the game and heartily encouraged! Two caveats:

- A number, once called, cannot be used again.

- A lee being tickled with both hands cannot call a number of their own until one hand is back on each lee - they must endure the full minute.

B - the number is in the “secret set” and is CURSED. Calling one of these numbers results in LOSING the game. The ler quickly releases one hand of the lee who did NOT call the cursed number, so that they can get to work freeing themselves. They then unleash hell on the lee who DID call the cursed number - both hands, mouth, tools, oil/lotion, potentially NSFW forfeits if you’re into that, whatever’s been agreed - for a sustained period of time at maximum intensity, with the winning lee helping to ruin their friend as soon as they get loose. After a solid and lengthy gang tickling, provided the losing lee is still conscious, both lees are shown what the cursed set of numbers was - and play again with a new set if they dare to tempt fate a second time!

It can be improved with a second ler so you have one on each lee at the start, then both teaming up on one of them based on which number is called 😈

[an-unconscious-effort-comic]

Hello and welcome to An Unconscious Effort!

What is An Unconscious Effort?

At its heart, AUE is a story I wrote to one day be a webcomic about 4 kids being forced to navigate through the depths of the dream world, who all have their own attempts and ideas on how to establish a balance between their dreams and the real world, all while learning how to rely on others and be kinder to themselves.

The story follows 4 different POV’s.

The first quarter of the story will follow Abigail, a 14 year old girl who’s better at talking to plants than she is to people, and trying to figure out this whole ‘growing into the adult she wants to be’ thing, or whatever her mom says. Less and less people in the world have been able to report having dreams as of late, with many speculating if this could mean the start of something much bigger than themselves. So, when a mysterious entity from the dream world offers the opportunity of a lifetime for Abigail to help in reestablishing a balance between the dream world and the waking world and being apart of something that could change the lives of billions for the better, how could Abi even reject this offer?

Current status?

At the moment, the outline for this story is still being workshopped. I have 1/2 of the outline written, but still would like to go over it again once I reach the ending to probably rearrange and tweak some things before properly and officially starting to post the comic for-realsies.

There is already some beta chapters I posted to webtoon and tapas that I made while trying to get a feel for making webcomics in the first place, and while I am still proud of having made those, their quality and story is not representative of what I will be trying to create when I officially start the comic again. They were mainly made to be a learning experience at the time and I guess I did learn a lot.

Main Characters?

I’m glad you asked!! (you didn’t).

Abigail (Abi) - 14 y/o, she/her - Friendly neighborhood girlfailure who takes care of the plants.

(For anyone who remembers my utdr fanart, she was the oc I turned into patience)

Prawn - 15 y/o, he/him - If he sees you sitting on a bench all alone he will sit down next to you and strike up a conversation. This is not a possibility, it is a threat. He knows your location.

(Oc turned into kindness)

Marzipan (Marzi) - 16 y/o, she/her - Girlbossing her way through life, but at what cost.

(Oc i hid under the cut that I had turned into justice)

Meadow - 13-15 y/o?, she/they - What a cute little deer guy! Sure hope they’re not hiding any horrors in them!

(Oc that I turned into perserverance)

Whats this blog for?

Fuck if i know im bored lmao. I doubt this blog or comic will even be seen by anybody but I still sorta want to post some oc work on here and just…have some fun? Maybe organize some stuff about the comic here and post about characters sometimes. Idk I’ll figure it out I suppose

And if you’d rather see my art blog where I usually just post utdr fanart and be cringe then its @squidpedia while @squidpedias-reblogs is my rb account

If you read this far, you have bad taste but thank you

[scrambledslut]

angsty blurb #1

Joel Miller x GN!reader

hi ok so this is probably so ASS but i’m posting my writing for the first time since i was like 12 (OG wattpad girlie here) pls be nice🧍 this is part of a bigger picture/story but i’m still figuring stuff out, i haven’t even written a first draft yet oops anyways enjoy

words: 831

warnings: ??? implied sexual content, non-consensual choking (reader forces joel to choke them?? idk) angst!!!!

A tear betrays you as it leaves your eye and rolls down your cheek, connecting with his skin. He quickly wretches his mouth away from yours and hovers above you with a look of alarm and concern on his face.

“No no no- don’t stop please” You claw at him, trying to make him kiss and touch you again.

“What’s going on darlin’?”

“No Joel- you don’t understand- just–“ you take a deep breath trying to steady your voice.

Bringing your arms around his neck you once again try to bring him down to your lips. “please just touch me” the attempt fails and panic overcomes you again.

You need him to make it stop. You need him to touch you. Want you.

Using all your strength you take the hand that’s stroking your cheek and bring it to your throat. His eyes widen when you desperately urge him to squeeze, forcing his hand to choke you.

“Please hurt me, Joel, please please please– I’ll be good, I promise“ you plead.

Something changes in his eyes then, you can see the second he realizes what’s going on. The warmth and concern previously shown in his eyes disappear in a split second, it’s like you can see the wall being put up around his heart. Gaze turned to ice, he pulls away from you harshly as if burned, while you were left shivering.

“Jesus Christ you’re fucked up.”

His words are like a punch in the stomach, all the air forces out of your lungs. You’ve heard similar things said to you multiple times but somehow you must have tricked yourself into believing that Joel wouldn’t see or think of you like that. You don’t even have a right to be hurt cause what he said was true in the end. How utterly ironic.

Joel starts looking for his clothes, trying to tug them on as fast as possible, stumbling a little when pulling his pants on.

The fear that had been simmering has now turned into a full-blown panic attack, tears running down your face. You scramble to the foot of the bed and reach for him, sobbing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry please- please don’t leave Joel- you can’t!” you must sound hysterical by the way you’re begging him not to leave you, sobs wracking through your body.

He’s shaking his head refusing to look at you as he pulls on his heavy boots.

The lack of oxygen has you feeling lightheaded but you barely even notice it, too focused on making Joel stay. You grab his hand, bringing it up to your face as you cradle it, and he finally looks at you. But there’s no tenderness or affection, no vulnerability. Just resentment.

“How fucking dare you use me to punish yourself?” His voice is loud, cutting.

A million thoughts are flying through his head all at once. He’s getting nauseous. Was this all it was? All those times?

When everything had started it was just sex, a way for him to get out his built frustrations, and he’ll admit that he was rougher with you than he should have been. But you never seemed to mind, you kept coming back to him. However, this wasn’t just sex for him anymore. You had somehow slinked your way into his heart despite the brick walls surrounding him, you had become everything to him.

Joel always knew you had issues and past traumas but you never wanted to talk about it, and he never wanted to push. He never saw you cry but he could see how it was weighing on you, leaving you tired and jumpy, disconnected from everything and everyone around you. It always felt like you were slipping through his fingertips, never fully there.

He wanted to help, to show you that it was okay to talk about it, so he told you about his life before, about Sarah. About how he barely survived the loss of her. He opened up and showed you all of him, the good and the bad. He told you about the things he was still ashamed of to this day and yet you accepted him. But you never showed him all of you.

So why now? Had you just reached a breaking point where you couldn’t hide it anymore? Couldn’t handle him being tender with you?

He feels so fucking dirty.

You’re still pleading for him not to go and it breaks his fucking heart as he takes one last look at you sitting on that bed, tears running down your face as you shake with agony.

“I- um, I’ll tell Maria to come over, you shouldn’t be alone right now.” He let’s you know before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

You’re hyperventilating, your chest feels on fire and everything is fuzzy from tears and lack of oxygen. You don’t know how much time passes between him leaving and your vision darkening. All you know is that you’re drowning, water filling your lungs as you get dragged into the deep.

[milimeters-morales]

it is so difficult to write miles coming out as gay to hobie because i know that hobie’s fine with it but it’s so hard to. like me and hobie are on the same levels of sexuality abstraction and as i’m writing Miles i have to write from Miles’s POV of it, so he’s much more… simple. about it. but knows that Hobie is on another level entirely with understanding. i’m not even being rude, it’s like when you’re being trained at work and you know there’s way more they aren’t telling you but it’s more of learned personal things, like how to get in the trance state to pass time, stuff you can’t just know immediately if you already have walls around yourself to be “the good one” or something similar. ygetit. continues under cut

but anyway hobie comes off, sort of, as “i don’t care, this wasn’t important at all to me” and i. ughhhh like. as a black autistic guy this moment is important to me because i always come off like that even when shit is super vital to me, i’m gonna remember it forever, i’ll have dreams about it, etc etc. but at the same time, sometimes it just doesn’t reach me emotionally as much as it would the average person, so i can’t force myself to show that average amount of happiness or excitement. and i know hobie wouldn’t do that either! and miles is very sensitive in a moment like this, so it feels painful writing miles as this “hobie didn’t get hyped immediately i need to never come out again” type because we’ve never seen him (atsv version) in a state like this, it feels like i’m faking this entire fic. which. i am. but you get it right?? you see my issue???

anyway hobie: calm and happy that miles came out, already suspected it but stayed silent, is already tired, kind of thought him being chill would make miles be chill because he’s aware that miles is more of a low-key type of person

miles: just told the second coolest person he knows and admires his deep secret and another person’s (ganke’s) deep secret after being given an ultimatum for their relationship, did not even think to tell his parents and already failed telling his twin, who also told him that ganke might have had a crush on another girl in the story before they met, is met with Hobie’s stony face and shrug, every emotion hits at once. guilt guilt guilt at lashing out.

he sees hobie as having it all figured out and being rude, thinking “i already know this so i don’t realize how hard it is for you to get to this point, whatever get out of here i was trying to sleep” and feels. HE FEELS.

n e ways. that’s kinda how i want this to go but knowing me and the characters that take over when i’m not looking, this probably wont stick lol. watch i take this moment out entirely i’ll be soooo pissed if i do that. :/

[caffernnn]

Free! Anniversary Fic Recs 🦋🐋🐬🦈🐧 Can you share your fav fics from each year (2013-2023) Free! has been around?

This is a very fun ask!! Lemme root through my bookmarks and see what I can find 😅

2013 - A lot of the stories I have saved from this time are shorter lil one-shots like “Never Leave” by Shimegami (classic mh hug-it-out interlude fic) and “The Sound of Settling” by teke (feelings realization stuff), but one other one I liked was “The Ocean You Gave My Heart” by miaoujones. Smut warning for that one (if that’s not your thing), but something about desert-bound Makoto learning to swim and indulge in water with Haru, thinking upon meeting him that he’s a wonder whether he’s really a mermaid or not, that’s neat!!

2014 - starting to realize the ones I kept any note of from the early years are some of the popular mh fics probably already recommended 10 times over, but there’s a reason why people sing their praises. If you haven’t checked out fics from tide tothemoon like 2/13189000 (mhtokyo my beloved), their writing is *chef’s kiss* delightful. Another AU I haven’t been able to bring myself to revisit was orihime’s reincarnation stories from “I cannot be without you, matter of fact.” There are two different stories, one where Makoto remembers their past lives and a follow up where Haru remembers, and oh that made me ache dude.

2015 - Speaking of suffering, have y’all checked out Heart’s Departure yet? I think we’ve referenced and talked about that story enough for it to speak for itself 🥴 heartbreaking circumstances but still cosmic and so so beautiful. Then, once you’re done crying about that story, hop over to “Shake the Heavens” by Ad_Astra to break down over (what I described in my ao3 bookmark) Makoto and Haru’s “inherently cataclysmic devotion.” I guess 2015 was the year of shoving the boys into tragic AUs and seeing how much they were willing to give up to get back to each other. A whole vibe

2016 - let’s goooo gamers, more AUs!! “I’d Create Oceans For You” by trashness is a fun fantasy adventure that has both tender moments and interesting action (and some banger art from donguris omggg). If you want something more future-fish-flavored that shows that happily-ever-after doesn’t save you from your grief, “Sublimation” by RedScribbler was great. You can find more of my thoughts on that one if you scroll back a bit in my “fic recs” tag — one of y’all sent it in and yeeees it was so up my alley!

2017 - Alright fellas, there are so many to choose from, because now we’re getting into the macbetha years! Who would I be if I didn’t mention “Eyes Wide Open All The Time” tbh?? It’s a long one with its own hard-hitting involved lore and world-building, but Beth builds this unique story in a way that pulls from the characters we know and love so effectively. I’ve sung the praises for this story multiple times (and could so do it again bro don’t tempt me) but I’ll end off with saying that if you’re fascinated in watching deeply-wounded people who’ve been put through hell learn how to make a life in the aftermath, there’s something special for you here. Aaaand, if you want something about 1/10 the length and not as heavy, “159 (Architect/Interior Designer AU)” by intoxicatedcinnamon has some fun moments 😌 that’s another one where you can find more of my thoughts somewhere in the fic recs tag (love when y’all send me stories 💚💙)

2018 - “Coral and Bone” by Macbetha my beloved!!!! Wanna play mermaids and fight the gods? Maybe try to find that summer magic that makes you want to keep going and accidentally fall in love on the way? I am puuushing you toward this story bestie. Everyone’s here and everyone’s having fun! OH ALSO I’m throwing in “Night Changes” by SEMellark because I love stories where Makoto and Haru actually figure out how to talk to each other. (Side note — a lot of these are probably gonna be things I’ve rec’d in the past, so feel free to scroll my tag for more details and consider this list an extra endorsement 😅)

2019 - (drops basket full of love for mutuals) OOPS OOPS OOPS!!! Don’t mind me, just popping in with some “Let’s Get Married” by sagesprouts and “Anthropocene” by testosterogna, nothing to see here but some classic natsunao shenanigans and one of the sickest elemental bender AUs out there 😌✨ I also have some fics from Svana saved from this year, but I’ll be mentioning her again later so hold on okay!!

2020 - alright, now the list is getting longer with everyone jumping back in during the early pandemic days 🏃🏻‍♀️SO FIRST OFF “green eyes, you’re the one I wanted to find” by infinite_always is an absolute FLUFF FEST of a soulmate AU! Unbearably tender moments but who doesn’t love that every so often? OH AND we have another one of my all-time ultimate fic recs here!! “Reaching” by CupNoodles55 has shaped and reshaped how I look back at Eternal Summer in the way I’d want any great canon-compliant fic to. Big love for interlude scenes and extra bits that help recontextualize or deepen what a moment could’ve meant in the show. Gonna end off 2020 with “The Sea Aflame” by Dizzydodo because even though this urban fantasy story is unfinished, I was super drawn in by the prospects of dragon!Makoto and whatever god stuff was going on with Sousuke. An interesting universe I love thinking about again from time to time.

2021 - Starting off strong with “love on the water, love underwater (and so on)” by rudimentaryflair because we love introspection here!!! Lovely writing style with lines that make me want to scale the walls. This take on Makoto is so so special. Also gonna rec “To Clear Away Today” by suhmayzooka (omg hiiii) if you want to be thrown into another hard-hitting intricate AU with loads of potential. Love exploring what we’ve got to see of the world so far 💞 and OOOH IT’S TIME!! “Extraordinary” by Svana_Vrika is basically canon to me at this point. Svana has a lot of sweet shorter stories with Makoto and Haru (look here, look here), but this one is everythinggg my guy. Similar appeal to “Reaching” mentioned earlier: a story of interludes that bring the story we already know to life in a delightful new way. Required reading for mhtokyo fans forreal. ONE LAST ONE OKAY!! “Teacher” by VeloxVoid is a great future fic with teacher!Makoto and artist!Haru (and I’m not biased just bc it was a gift exchange for me with details fit to my specific tastes wdym🧍🏻). Domestic blisssss

2022 - Ooh we’ve almost caught up y’all ☺️ gonna start with “All This and Heaven Too” by SocksAreArgyle because sometimes the bestie crafts a smorgasbord of smut with a delicious throughline of character/relationship development baked in. If you want your choice of spicy makoharus or some character exploration, you’re SET with this one. Next is “I Let My Heart Go” by martincrieff because sometimes the bestie looks at poor pining Makoto and goes “you know what would be messed up?” AND I JUST !!! So full of love and now full of flower petals. Hanahaki!Makoto my dearest boy!! Aaaand ending off the year with some tender mh (to Ikuya’s detriment) in “The Night Train” by Lizzyboo. They’re so softtt with each other and UGH this story is so nice. Love watching people take the crumbs from FS/FS2 and make a meal 💜

2023 - The year is young! And old! So here’s some more, with who knows how many bangers yet to come 🎉 First going to throw in the Makoharu Week 2023 collection for your perusal because I saw some fantastic stories emerge from that event. If you have twitter, I’d recommend also seeing some of the threadfics posted over there from the event as well 💚💙 and I thiiink I’m gonna close off for now with “just like it was always meant to be” by tonfea because they’ve been putting out banger stories that deserve all the love. Haru introspection is one of those things that isn’t always done very well (which is especially hard to reckon with in older fics) but tonfea’s stories all have an intimate understanding about Haru’s mind and journey that just makes sense.

Alright hello we made it to the end!!! Might’ve thrown in more than expected but I hope makoharu enjoyers find something on this list that fits their fancy 🥲 (and if anyone wants to rec something or ramble about a story here that they loved I’m all ears)

[ageless-aislynn]

Good news on the Mass Effect Andromeda front: I am finally Figuring Stuff Out™ (Fast travel, learning how to toggle the objectives and realizing THERE’S A MAP have made things soooooo much more fun) and am vibing with the game at last!

One thing that was kinda stressing me out? Every time the game reminds me THE CHOICES YOU MAKE WILL EFFECT LATER OUTCOMES!!!!!! which triggers this anxiety in me that I’m Doing Things Wrong© and often results in me freezing and not wanting to make any choice because I don’t want to make The Wrong One and not be able to correct it later. 😬

But once I realized I can just play the game again and make different choices, it felt less ominous and universe destroying to potentially make choices I don’t end up liking later in this run. I wish there was a faster way to play through the game, though, but I’m going to definitely replay it on the story/narrative mode where the fighting is minimal. Anyway, I want to play again as Scott and explore some of his options (okay, so I’m probably going to date Cora if she’ll have BroRyder!me, lol) but I’m still weighing my current romantic options as Sara.

I did a bit of research (*points to my anxiety about Doing Things Wrong® which definitely outweighs any Not Wanting To Be Spoiled* 🤷‍♀️😉) to see which optional romance characters I haven’t met yet and that seems to be Jaal and Reyes. Now, I have to say that Jaal seems to be firmly in my character preference wheelhouse (his voice and style of speech reminds me a bit of Vincent from 1987 Beauty and the Beast who I still to this day ADORE with my entire fangirl soul, what can I say? 😍💗), so he’s probably going to be a big contender for Sara’s heart on this playthrough.

However, up until now, I’ve been trying out the flirt options with any character it’s been offered for and, so far, Suvi and Peebee are currently in the running for the title of 💖Love of Sara’s Life💖 However, I was unexpectedly charmed by Vetra’s reaction where she got all tongue-tied and was practically stammering when I asked if she had anybody special in her life. I admit... I found that adorable, considering she’s this big alien warrior woman who looks like she could break me into itty-bitty pieces and then I swear she was blushing at me asking her one simple little question.

Anyway, here’s Vetra, if you don’t know her.

Also... Peebee!

Annnnnd Suvi!

Here, I’ll round out my other potential love interests for Sara...

Jaal

annnnd Reyes! (I don’t know much about Reyes yet but he’s giving me some scoundrel vibes and I’m always here for that. 😎)

I mean, honestly? I’d kinda love to playthrough with each of them but that’s a HUGE commitment of time so we’ll have to see how that goes. I definitely want to replay as Sara at least one more time, though, with whoever ends up coming in second place this time around. 😉

Here’s my girl Sara for reference once more. 😉

I still suck at driving the NOMAD but I feel infinitely better since I’ve had several people tell me that it’s not just me. Also, at least I haven’t caused us to get burned up by radiation or gotten stuck on a big rock in the middle of enemies until we get shot to death again, so... IMPROVEMENT!

Anyway, for any of my Mass Effect Andromeda peeps out there... who do you typically play as and who do you choose to romance, if you choose anybody? I’d love to hear about your experiences, see how you’ve customized your character, all that fun stuff, if you’d like to share! 😎

That’s it for now. Love you, frens! 🤗🤗🤗

[krystaldeath]

Headcanons for Shadowpeach being Bai He’s dad’s please? (You can do it for your au where that happens if you want to btw, though you can also do it in a sort of canon scenario where the two adopt Bai He after making up or something)

Ahh I haven’t done anything for my au in a while so I’ll do that!

* So in the beginning Wukong was a bit hesitant to get too close to them, since he and Macaque don’t have the greatest history, but one day he saves Bai He from almost falling off a cliff when she was running around with the baby monkeys (the monkeys (both the babies and Mac & SWK) had heart attacks but it’s ok-) and she started to want to play with him more. So he became close to her before he and Mac patched things up and became lovers again

* Bai He likes to wear her hair in two buns on the side of her head. When Wukong one day finally asks why, she stops playing with her dolls and says, “Because it makes my shadow look like a monkey like my baba and papa!” with the biggest smile on her face. She immediately turned away to start playing again so she doesn’t see her fathers both clutching their hearts and crying their eyes out

* She calls Macaque Baba and Wukong Papa

* Bai He knows that her dads have a history together, and she figures out some things when she’s older by looking them up in books/on the internet. She keeps her knowing a secret because she’s afraid that if she brings it up her family will fall apart. Dw they all talk it out eventually but there’s a long period of time where she has this insecurity

* Groom/Braid train! Bai He in front getting her hair brushed, cleaned and braided by one of her dads while the other does the same to him. Mac is surprised that Wukong is actually pretty good at braiding (Wukong takes mock offense to his mate thinking he would suck at it; Bai He just giggles at her dads’ banter)

* Self projecting the little “Oo-Ooh~!” Id do whenever I saw my parents kiss when I was younger onto Bai He

* When she’s hanging out with the Traffic Light Trio for the Big Sis/Big Bro thing she has to hold back so much bc of MK’s rambling over Moneky King. “That’s my papa. He’s talking about my papa and I can’t even say anything about it. WAIT MY PAPA DID /W H A T/????” This is how she gets her Dad Lore™️, much like a lot of us (I assume or maybe this is just me-): From a person who isn’t her dad. In case you’re curious my mom is my Dad Lore supplier usually. Macaque probably tells her the stuff not usually talked about in stories though. “Oh yeah he was an idiot (affectionate). Still is but-“

* Macaque puts on shadow plays for her all the time, especially before bed. She asks for her favorite story and Mac gets flustered bc Wukong is watching too. “Th-the Hero and The Warrior were like the… the Sun and the Moon-” “Oho, were they now~?” “Papa, shh! Baba, please continue!”(It’s a bit of an edited version of the story from the Shadowplay episode, dw, he’s not putting his daughter to bed with a story about betrayal and heartbreak)

* Big timeskip here but after the events of season 3 (oh boy once I get the basics of this au out and can finally get into the shows timeline with it, yall aren’t ready for the angst), they all have some white in their hair. The family have “Hair Dye Days” where they all dye said white either their natural hair color or a fun unnatural color. Usually it’s just Bai He who does the unnatural colors (like pink or red; red is to match her dads :3), but sometimes Mac will dye his purple and Wukong will dye his teal/turquoise (I do Not know which one is the one he often has as his accent color but it’s gotta be one of the other. Probably)

* Last one for now bc this is getting long: Wukong is a living space heater. Macaque and Bai He will just cuddle up to him on each side and he has to try not to cry bc he’s been alone for so long, with only the baby monkeys to keep him company, and now he has a daughter and a husband and his touch starved self is gonna burst from how much love is in his soul now

[laundrybiscuits]

(Hanahaki AU tag)

Steve’s careful around him now, in a way that Eddie can’t stand and also can’t get enough of. Every time Eddie starts coughing again, Steve’ll pull over and hurry around to help Eddie out of the van, running a big hand up and down Eddie’s spine.

“I’m not a fucking invalid,” Eddie always says, no real heat to it.

“Yeah, I know. Just thought it’d be a good chance to stretch my legs,” Steve says with a fucking insufferable smug look on his face, like checkmate, asshole. Eddie lets him have it, because what else is Eddie going to do?

They swing through Vegas, which they both hate. Eddie also secretly kind of likes it at the same time, though. There’s something about the oily glitz and the way the city seems to be endlessly, blatantly craving more and more: money, fame, sex, glamour, anything at all to take you away from your life. Some guy even offers to sell them an 8-ball of coke, which makes Steve’s face do something hilarious.

“Sorry, pal,” laughs Eddie. “Think we’re a little too provincial for that kind of product. Better luck next time.” He tugs Steve away before the guy can start trying to wheedle them into taking a sample, because he’s sure as hell not going to be responsible for Steve Harrington ODing in an back alley.

“Did you…want to try the, uh, the coke?” asks Steve that night, as Eddie comes out of the bathroom, scrubbing a towel over his hair. Motels are actually pretty cheap here, so they’re in a half-decent room for once, and Eddie’s been basking in the water pressure for the last half-hour.

“Do I seem like the kind of person who’d buy hard drugs from some random guy on the street?” Eddie’s not offended; he’s actually sort of curious. He knows Steve’s no choir boy, but he also knows Steve’s about as small-town as they come. He wants to know what Steve thinks about who Eddie is and what Eddie might do.

“No, dude, c’mon, I just mean. You’re doing the bucket-list thing, right? If there’s stuff you want to try or whatever, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll, you know, I’ll help. If I can.”

Eddie immediately thinks about Steve on his knees, helping, and rolls his eyes at how fucking predictable his brain is. Takes that thought and locks it in his deepest vaults, melts down the key.

“You’re already helping,” is all he says. “It’s been—nice. Having company. Wasn’t expecting it on this little sojourn. I kinda always figured I’d die alone, you know? Even before this bloom shit, it felt like my kind of fate. Something nice and poetic, a lone wanderer disappearing into the murky beyond.”

“Sorry to mess up your poetry,” laughs Steve, who has probably never read any ancient stories about fate. Eddie thinks the black-eyed susans in him must also be sunflowers, the way he feels every famished part of himself turning to soak up as much of that bright smile as possible.

Eddie chucks the damp towel at Steve’s head and flops down on his own bed, a respectable distance away. “I’ll let you off with a warning this time, Harrington; just don’t let it happen again.”

[potatoeofwisdom]

Minecraft rottmnt au?? Oh please tell more

-☆staranon☆

Ok now that I’m actually confronted with the task of putting my thoughts to print I’m drawing a bit of a blank, but I’ll try and ramble about some of it here! (thank you so much for the ask!!!)

The gist is, through mystic mishap (Mikey trying to save him from the prison dimension) Leo is sent hurtling through dimensions to Minecraft. It’s a silly little doodle au I made up after playing Minecraft a few days too many.

Leo, once thrown into the world, is left injured and alone without any means of escaping. So he’s forced to travel aimlessly, searching for any information as to how to get home. He finds strange structures that sometimes contain more information about the world and what had happened before. (Kraang invasion)

This all takes place hundreds of years after the kraang had been evicted from the world so we’re following Leo as he discovers the after-effects of wide scale kraang takeover on a world that defeated them.

Creepers are actually the last surviving “kraang” left on Minecraft, save for a few exceptions we’re still ironing out. They are both self destructive and green due to a fungus based bioweapon the “old ones” (those who fought the Kraang before) used in the war.

(Zombies are also an unintended side affect of this)

They kinda plague Leo specifically because I feel like it would be funny (traumatising). They’re pretty rare normally but he seems to attract them for some reason.

There’s a bunch of other stuff we created as well, like the kinda history of the villager and illagers (the villagers live in a kind of isolated cult society) and the political connections between the different old-one societies and why each of them individually fell to the Kraang or joined together.

In all honesty I’m bad at writing story elements, or character writing. likelyhood is I’m not gonna do much with this au aside from doodles maybe every now and then.

If I was to outline a kind of story it’d be how he goes from structure to structure discovering more about the stories of those who all died during the war against the kraang whilst trying to track down more information about “the portal”.

Obviously there’s several portals in minecraft so he gets mislead into believing a portal to the nether could be a portal home, and that could lead to a certain amount of angst.

He would eventually find a way home, probably after defeating the ender dragon (it’s corrupted by the kraang)

Some facts about the dragon and the endermen:

The endermen have a kind of cryptid, assumed benevolent vibe to them in this. No one really knows their objectives aside from them trying to save(?) the dragon, which is a kind of god in this world.

The endermen are revered as a kind of holy figure due to their connections to the dragon.

The dragon works like a kind of phoenix but nobody knows this, unless the endermen do but no one knows what the endermen know or don’t know.

The dragons breath is literally the dragon dying kraang style™️ it’s great 👍

The dragon is stuck in a kind of half-death because of the kraang so it’s eternally suffering lol

Also the villagers mistakenly believe Leo to be some kind of enderman equivalent due to his portalling, and worship him accordingly, as seen in this post here

Some other facts:

A lot of the old ones religions were focused heavily on life and death and the cycle of decay (the purity or lack thereof depending on the culture) due to the fact skeletons have always just. Existed.

There is more lore about the specific beliefs of each about the life and death thing but I’ve forgotten them and will have to ask my sibling about it again

Skeletons were able to become passive but only due to religious practices of one of the old-one societies (the desert peoples)

All of them added the dragon somewhere in these religions but how exactly the dragon played a role in them was different depending on the religion and was subject to many debates (+ wars)

High-tech-kinda Machinery and magic exist. The ins and outs of both are unclear (Each society were more or less involved in the practices of either )

The underwater temples (and the underwater peoples) were extremely technologically advanced. Arguably the most advanced of all the old ones. They didn’t believe in the standard respect for the cycles of life and death and the practices surrounding the skeletons but they had their own beliefs and culture separate to the rest of the old ones.

The underwater ppl did body modding with copper and technology. Think underwater steampunk. You get me. Their zombies reflect this.

Mushroom islands are like nuclear wastelands but from mushroom bio weaponry

Mooshrooms are the only things that can survive on those islands anymore

They are like the zombies but better (somehow managed to reach complete symbiosis with the fungus. Unclear how exactly??)

Oh yea the dragon lives on the moon but the moon has an atmosphere so it’s fine

The kraang were all eviscerated by a machine created by the old ones. The only remaining kraang are those who were too far altered to be recognised as fully kraang anymore (creepers) and therefore managed to avoid whatever the old ones machine did, or were protected by plot (the dragon corruption).

The deep dark has lore and Leo is definitely gonna explore it in his search to find a way home.